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REMINISCENCES 



OP A 



DECEASED SISTER 



BRIEF MEMOIR 
or 

MRS. HARRIET N* W. SAWYER 

WHO DIED AT 

HUNTINGTON, INDIANA, 



JUNE 16TH, 1841. 




NEWBURY, VT. 

PUBLISHED BY HAYES & COMPANY. 
1843 . 



&$*» 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 184S y 

By H. Williams, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Vermont. 






PREFACE. 

This Family Memorial was intended primarily for the 
benefit of a younger brother, written by his especial request 
and addressed particularly to him. Circumstances of recent 
occurrence have induced the writer to alter, in some measure, 
its original design and give it a more extended circulation. 
As an unpretending tribute of affectionate regard for the mem- 
ory of the deceased, no elaborate apology is necessary : she 
has passed away from earth, and these few general outlines of 
her history remain — alike exposed, either to the inspection 
and sentence of impartial criticism, or to the favor and indul- 
gence of generous sensibility and consideration. 

Destitute of any thing to amuse the gay or gratify the fastid- 
ious, this little volume is dedicated to the cause of truth and 
righteousness; an object verifying, in a peculiar sense, an 
assurance made long since by the wisest of men, namely, 
that " in all labor there is profit " — and although no good re- 
sults may become immediately apparent, yet laboring in this 
cause, the author is confident of a future ample recompense. 

Kennebunk, (Me.,) March, 1842. 



MEMOIR. 



Among the varied scenes which human life pre- 
sents, may be ranked the separation of friends by 
death, as one of deep and affecting interest. 

This sentiment applies impressively with respect 
to the subject of this Memoir — Mrs. Harriet N. 
Williams, wife of F. W. Sawyer, M. D.,-— for- 
merly of Saco, Maine. 

In regard to descent, her family claims no " an- 
cient date." Her father, who was at an early age 
deprived by death of both t his parents, was a na- 
tive of Boston, Mass. His grand-father emigrat- 
ed from England to Boston: there his father, Wil- 
liam Williams, was born; — there he lived, died 
and was buried. In religious sentiment they were 
Episcopalians, his parents being members of an 
Episcopal church in that city.* Her maternal 
grand-father was Tobias Lord, Esquire, of Ken- 
nebunk, Me., " an enterprising and distinguish- 
ed merchant," and an "honest man. 53 Thus the 
monumental marble which marks his grave bears 
true and honourable testimony. 

* Stone Chapel — now Unitarian. 



6 MEMOIR OF MliS. SAWtElt. 

But, in tracing the genealogy of her family 5 
whether or not its pedigree has been preserved* is 
a matter of no importance* for a slight notice mere- 
ly is all that is necessary* 

Her peculiar traits of character and qualities of 
mind may be sufficiently distinguishable in this brief 
review of the prominent events of her life. 

Of her early childhood, a single item rescued 
from oblivion alone remains distinctly in the recol- 
lection of the writer* This occurred when she was 
about six years of age, and is minutely described 
by herself at a subsequent period — " A scene in my 
early days," involving a principle of practical ben- 
efit — a lesson so indelibly imprinted on the mind, 
that no succeeding time could erase it, An extract 
only will be given : 

" With what feelings of delight does the young 
heart hail the approach of an holy day ! It is then 
that the dull, tedious task is dismissed, the irksome 
supervision of the scrutinizing teacher is suspend- 
ed : and wdth it, the belaboured and energetic op- 
erations of his trusty ferule — the dread of him 
who lawlessly scorns his authority by ceasing to con 
his accustomed lesson. Oh ! it is then* that the 
gleeful respiration of the heart is not cramped or 
confined by lowering brows, so dull, compact and 
weighty, as almost to deaden the consciousness 
of ability to vibrate and re- vibrate unpermitted. 
Then, unloosed from its pent-house and unshackled 
in its course, it flows forth with impetuosity, and 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



dashes on in its undefined course — until — it has 
again reached the goal of its withdrawment, and 
silently though unsubmissively sinks again beneath 
the coercive rules of school — only to lie powerless 
until the task-master's dominion expires in another 
holy day. 

In these buoyant moments, whither would the 
waywardness of youth lead their inadvertent steps, 
did not a guardian watchfulness often direct — often 
obviate the evils attendant on their thoughtless- 
ness ? * * * * 

* One summer afternoon we 

greeted with unusual delight, for we were to visit 

the decayed cottage of a name she had in 

reputation by few. Yet the general and more ap- 
propriate appellation by which she was known, was 
significantly termed "Old Ellis," for she had per- 
formed so many revolutions in the period of her 
existence, and the list had swelled to so numerous a 
quantity, that she could form no correct estimate 
of the amount, and long 'ere this, it had quite es- 
caped her memory. 

We commenced our walk in high spirits, and as 

happy and merry as youthful hearts could be, in the 

expectation of a long anticipated pleasure. It was 

a delightful wood-meander — with all its poetical 

views, garlanded with flowers — interspersed with 

the waving evergreen, which is vivid, even amid 

the desolations of nature. 

But our bright prospects were likely to be oblit 
4 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER, 



erated by gathering clouds which had nearly bedim- 
med the sun, and every appearance of the sky 
omened an approaching shower. But having pro- 
ceeded too far to return, we had no alternative but 
to continue our way — the termination of which we 
prosecuted with all despatch. We succeeded in 
reaching the spot, when the rain fell in torrents, 
and completely immersed us within its humid coils. 
Within sight of a covert our apprehensions would 
necessarily cease, and we were already on the door- 
sill, but judge of our chagrin and disappointment 
in finding admittance impossible, for its opening 
was of so peculiar construction as to mock our in- 
fantile endeavors. Simple as was the contrivance 
in its operations, we were compelled to remain with- 
out, and to add to our misfortune, there was but one 
inmate, then, within, and she so decrepit with age 
or infirmity, as to be confined within the precincts 
of her narrow chair. She however heardthe distur- 
bance created by us, and having defined the nature 
of it, repeatedly reiterated in her hollow voice — 
"pull — pull — and the door'll fly open." The be- 
fore unnoticed string tendered to the latch obtrud- 
ed itself, and having plied it dexterously, it opened 
sure enough to our astonished view. There sat 
poor Jenney, an elderly sister, beside the massy 
fire-place, a solitary occupant of the wretched 
room — herself a picture of wo and desertion. She 
was literally habited in a " coat of many colors," 
composed of a variety of patterns and shades, as 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYfcB* 9 

fanciful and variegated in its parti-coloured hues 
as the famed garment of the young Israelite, which 
so excited the envy of his brethren and stimulated 
them to the cruel treatment they inflicted on him 
— but Ms was a robe of royalty, entitling him to 
honor — hers, a garb of poverty $ bespeaking desti- 
tution. 

The interior of the house wore a more gloomy 
aspect, for what heightens gloom more than dark- 
ness? A pale light was scarcely allovyed to pass 
through the one small window, so bedi mined with 
dust, and interwoven with cob-webs as to render 
it scarcely admissible. And this was the only hab- 
itable apartment. A deal table maintained an un- 
disputed post for years, as proprietor of the cen- 
tral region, and certainly its standing had been of 
sufficient duration to secure it the right of posses- 
sion. A large chest enjoined secresy on its con- 
tents, which gave rise to some conjectures concern- 
ingj;he treasure concealed withir. Some imagined 
hoards of garments were therein deposited for fu- 
ture emergencies. Others that piles of silver were 
preciously lodged. These suppositions arose from 
their absolute want, notwithstanding the many char- 
ities bestowed, together with the addition of the 
earnings of their industrious acquirements. I, how- 
ever, deemed these conjectures as chimerical, be- 
lieving its value ill founded, and attributed their 
poverty to want of good management. 3 ' 

To conclude — the bright sun which looked out 



10 MEMOlit OF MRS. SAWYEK. 



Upon them so benignly from behind the parting 
cloud, as they left the poor invalid with their kind- 
est wishes*, was again suddenly obscured by black 
and gathering clouds,— the rain descended in tor- 
rents, and before the little company could gain a 
place of shelter, they were drenched and dripping 
with wet. — — — » 

A story so simple needs no further elucidation; it 
may find a parallel amid the every day scenes of 
common life — important here only as conveying a 
first lesson — a truth of primary consequence. 

It is not known that she had In early life any par- 
ticular religious impressions, though the specula- 
tions of her young imagination Were early connec- 
ted with objects of a spiritual nature. At school, 
where she first mingled with her youthful compan- 
ions, exposed to immediate observation and spread 
out beneath her view* were grouped together many 
little marble monuments and grassy mounds, sad 
mementos of our mortality! What eloquence like 
that from the tomb ! What admonitions like those 
from the voiceless dead ! What an exposition of 
those passages of the inspired volume which repre- 
sent " sin to have entered into the world, and death" 
in consequence of " sin, 55 marring the fairest work 
of creation, and spreading desolation in its train ! 
Her sympathies were quick and tender — she 
found in these evidences of mortality a response to 
her own consciousness, and she heard in the moan- 
ing winds an echo to the sentence of death in her 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. H 



soul — she stood upon the crumbling brink of the 
grave and looked into the yawning tomb,*— and se- 
riously impressed by these humiliating truths, she 
imbibed and expressed the belief that her days were 
numbered and soon to be finished, that she, of her 
father's household was first to be a tenant of that 
dark abode. 

But it had been otherwise determined— the pros- 
pect of life opened before her in renewed and con- 
firmed health — by habitual activity to accomplish 
much during the chequered term of her brief pil- 
grimage. Now she has bowed her head in death, 
and yielded up her spirit, but not where gathered 
kindred lie ; —nor are her remains deposited in the 
gloomy vault, whose preparation as a receptacle for 
the dead she contemplated with interest, at the time 
above alluded to — neither is she the first of her 
family who have gone to rest. " They have found 
a grave," using the language employed by herself 
upon a certain occasion, " away from the land of 
their fathers, but strangers bedew it with tears of 
affection." 

« But the hour of her removal did not arrive, un- 
til the Lord had first reconciled her to his providen- 
tial government and gracious discipline, and com- 
pelled her cheerfully to acknowledge that he doeth 
all things well. And her course terminated serene- 
ly, pe acefully ; — in the cheerful calm of a sabbati- 

* This was literally true. Several workmen were, at that 

time, engaged in preparing the family tomb. 



12 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



cal dawn — in the midst of a radiance beaming from 
the heavenly Zion, did her Divine Friend translate 
her to the joy of the eternal hills 3 that his grace 
and faithfulness might be glorified in the sight of 
surviving mourners, and of an ungodly world." 

She manifested, at one time, no ordinary interest 
in Missionary operations. When eleven years of 
age she assisted in the formation of the first Mission- 
ary Association ever known to exist in Kennebunk. 
The plan was devised and constitution drafted by a 
young companion, who had somewhere read of the 
claims and importance of such associations. It was 
without the knowledge, and by no suggestion of any 
individual that these two young persons originated 
an extensive Missionary association, one carrying 
out into execution what the other had so wisely 
schemed. 

She readily added her exertions to the list of 
agencies employed in this benevolent design, being 
the first who ventured with the paper, soliciting do- 
nations, and carrying it round, until almost every 
house in the village had been visited, and nearly 
fifty subscribers, with some difficulty, obtained. 
With her slight opportunities of acquaintance with 
such operations, at this time, it is not probable or 
even possible that her feelings could have been, in 
any measure, coincident with the value and magni- 
tude of her object, still it may be proper to recur to 
this simple circumstance, while no more is conceded 
to its importance than its merits justify. The sub- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 13 



ject of missions was, at that time, in Kennebunk 
but imperfectly understood, and exceedingly un- 
popular, 

An early effusion of her pen 5 in a simple manner, 
reverts to this interesting period of her life — as — 
Days of my early youth ! whose silver lustre shed 
A radiant, changeless light around my peaceful head. 
Thine airy dreams of bliss in happy, coming- days, 
Painted illusions sweet, in golden ambient rays ! 

And continuing the simile — - 

Unruffled by a storm — a brilliant sunshine scene — 
Life seemed a long, -long day, with aspect most serene — ■ 

For then as she expresses it, 

Griefs cold and blighting hand fell not upon the heart, 
To loose the silver chord, the golden bowl to part. 

But the season of childhood passed away, and 
with it the tenderness and spirituality of her im- 
pressions, though she continued decided in princi- 
ple, and cherished a conscientious regard for the 
external duties of religion; possessed of great viva- 
city and elasticity of spirit — naturally lively and 
susceptible, she allowed her feelings, like most other 
young people, to be influenced for years by appeals 
from worldly objects, yet she was not without sol- 
emn consideration.* She was a constant attendant 



* She was, up to this time, one of the children of the church 
under the pastoral care of the Rev. N, H. Fletcher, Unitarian 
clergyman in Kennebunk. To that church her parents belong- 
ed, and there in infancy, she received the baptismal seal arm' 
token of the covenant. An obscure Orthodox church consist- 



14 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

upon all the means of christian instruction — she 
loved the Bible class and Sabbath school, and from 
the time of their first formation in her native vil- 
lage, unless positively prevented by circumstances 
which she could not regulate, her place was never 
vacant; anticipating the hour of meeting with pleas- 
ure she prepared herself for the occasion, literally 
fulfilling the sacred injunction, in examining the 
word of life. 

In the education of her young brothers she ex- 
pressed a deep interest. She undertook, herself, 
voluntarily, their immediate care and supervision, 
which she continued for several years. Many and 
various were the schemes devised for their enter- 
tainment and instruction. At one time, while en- 
gaged in her little school, it was discovered that two 
robins were busily employed in fabricating a nest 
among the wood-bine beneath the window — upon 
which she wrote the following, 
ADDRESS TO THE ROBINS IN THE WOOD-BINE. 
With us, you seek a quiet rest, 
For anxiously you've placed your nest, 

ing of eleven individuals (ten women and one man,) was organ- 
ized in K., August 15th, 1826. A slight attendance upon some 
of their occasional meetings induced a preference of these to 
those where she had previously belonged — and soon after, dur- 
ing the year 1827 — about the fourteenth year of her age, she 
left the congregation of the first Church — the spot where 
centered her dearest friendships and associations, to worship 
with the assembly in Union HalL 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 15 

Beneath the shelving eaves* 
Close by the portal opening wide, 
And near the gaping window's side, 

Among the woocUbine leaves. 

With innate trust, your dear retreat 
At once does all your wishes meet, 

For here secure you stay — ■ 
No hurtful rains around you, coy— 
To drench your house — 'yourselves annoy? 

Or tear your'hopes away. 

No scorching heat or burning ray 
Is felt throughout the lasting day, 

The branch's a covert grown — 
As if t'anticipate your need, 
It proffers'thus a virtuous meed, 

In willing, cheerful loan. 

No rifler's hand can ever dare 
To leave your little lodging bare, 

So certain is your trust — 
Else, gentle birds, you ne'er would rear 
A nest to place your offspring here, 

Within our dead'ning thrust. 

To warm and feed the nestlings dear, 
Each takes his turn *- then lingers near, 

For fear some evil round, 
And if alarm its voice intrude, 
Threat'ning to harm your infant brood, 

Your warning notes resound. 

No angry passion whirls your breast, 
Or mars your humble, placid rest. 



16 • MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

Friendship and concord meet; 
If one is absent long from home, 
* Tis not for sole excursion's roam — 

' Tis needful food you seek. 

To cheer her arduous duties long 
The father trills a gladsome song, 

How cheerful is his lay ! 
Your virtues may we strive to learn, 
A ad quickly others wants discern : 

' T will cause a peaceful day. 

Upon another occasion she wrote for them 

THE MERMAID'S SONG. 

Mariners with their excited imaginations, have supposed the 
real existence of so singular a being; but candid, liberal minds, 
accustomed to regard objects with sober calmness, view such 
an idea as an emanation from fancy's wild vagaries or the chi- 
mera of a disordered brain. 

Oh! days of halcyon brightness, with haste you swiftly glide, 
And on wings of airy lightness, far to the welkin ride — 
A home of blissful quiet beneath the dark blue wave, 
Where the surge in frolic riot^its canopy doth lave — 
Beneath its ample arches, on my massy couch I lie, 
Where sultry heat ne'er parches with its desolating sigh: 
Beyond the limits of my grot, the icy gale is cast, [past. 
Whose chill and with'ring breath has not, upon me, ever 

A chaplet of bright flowers, I've gathered fresh and fair 
From the perennial bowers, to wreath about my hair, 
And while my fingers weave and twine these tissue gar- 
lands bright, 
Their emblems other thoughts combine, embossed with 
glitt'ring light, 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 17 

And memories like meteor-stars, in golden circles vie, 
And thrust without their burning cars, to my rapt visions 

fly- 

The dolphins, with their varied hues, visit my humble stay. 
And shedding round ambrosial dews, pass swiftly far away ; 
So sacred is my place of rest, my peacefulness from toil, 
No marine inmates seek as guests the blissful hours to 

spoil; 
If e'er they dare approach my home, my orders far they bear 
To distant regions where they roam, above this nether air. 

No hateful care intrudes my rest, to furrow o'er my brow, 
For grief's a wanderer from my breast, and ever will be 

now — 
I gather coral white and red around my rock-built grot, 
I string my bugles on a thread, from the " Forget-me-not ; " 
I wind my amber bright and fair, in fringe-like tassels too, 
And loom between my azure hair — a constant, faithful 
hue: — 
Say is it not a peaceful shade — a quiet 'neath the wave, 
Where storms of sorrow never come, the heart to sink and lave! 
A Paraphrase on James 4: 14. 

FOR MY BROTHERS. 

"WHAT IS YOUR LIFE!" 

A vapory gleam 
That dances in the sun's bright beam — 
Then's lost beneath the golden sheen. 
What is your life 1 

A bubble bright 
That glitters in the noon-day light — 
Then bursts — forever lost to sight. 
What is your life 1 



18 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

A beaming star, 
Shooting its glory from afar, 
But blackened clouds its beauty mar. 
What is your life 1 

A lovely flower, 
Withered and dead in one short hour, 
A victim to resistless power. 
What is your life 1 

A passing tale, 
Moving onward with the gale, 
Then shrouded 'neath oblivion's pale. 
What is your lifel 

A varied dream, 
Mingled with fear and hope between — 
Lost in eternity's broad stream! 
What is your life 1 

A blank indeed — 
At best a hollow-hearted reed — 
If all our hopes from earth proceed. 
What is your life 1 

Oh ! — ask the dead, 
Who slumber 'neath their turfy bed — 
Where many feet unconscious tread. 
What is your life 1 

Ask cherubs bright, 
Who flutter in the realms of light. 
Where joys unceasing meet their sight. 
What is your life 1 

List ! their reply — 
" A Saviour came on earth to die, 
Eternal fife to grant on high." 
Then what's your life 1 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 19 

A precious prize — 
To light your spirits to the skies, 
When death is sealing fast your eyes. 

In regard to that part of education which is term- 
ed more properly intellectual culture-^ by those who 
best knew her, it is thought that a just estimate is 
due to her mental as well as her moral worth. Be- 
ing subject to frequent severe attacks of illness, for 
many years of her early life, the progress she made 
was the result of her own self-application and per- 
severance, rather than any advantage derived from 
the tuition and guidance of others. As time advan- 
ced she commenced a course of classical and scien- 
tific studies, which, though liable to repeated inter- 
ruptions, she prosecuted with characteristic energy 
and success, but the state of her health prevented 
the full accomplishment of her design, and eventu- 
ally induced her to relinquish her favorite pursuits 
and dovote her mind to other objects. 

A Valedictory, written in 1S30, for the close of 
Examination, when a pupil of the Young Ladies' 
High School in S may be regarded as ex- 
pressive of her feelings and sentiments. 

" The scenes of life are many, multiplied and va- 
ried, but the separation of friends is the most pain- 
ful one. 

We are beings constituted for the sweets of soci- 
ety — we possess sympathetic spirits and souls sus- 
ceptible of the most refined and exalted affections. 
Our hearts throb with delight, if another can be 



20 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

found whose sentiments and feelings harmonize 
with ours. Possessing such natures, we are unhap- 
py if secluded from kindred spirits and life is no 
longer desirable. 

As we are capable of sustaining communion with 
beings of a similar order, our souls imperceptibly 
become assimilated to theirs, and friendship unites 
us by indissoluble ties: indissoluble did I say ? No 
tie is so strongly cemented, but it can be severed — 
nor bond is there so firmly attached but it may be 
broken. 

Our residence on earth is but temporary — we 
have here no permanent abode — we are only pil- 
grims and sojourners looking for " a city which is 
to come, whose builder and maker is God." How- 
ever firm may be the attachment which unites us 
here, we must be separated — our affections cannot 
retain the spirit — it may remain a moment to cast 
a lingering look on its sad survivor, but notwith- 
standing our tears, it wings its flight to the regions 
of eternity. 

My dear Friends — we are about to separate, and 
none can say but it will be for the last time ! Many 
months have we passed together " around the flowry 
base of learning's lofty eminence " — many months 
have we climbed in company the hill of science — 
but those days of happiness are fled never to return ! 
The mementos of our indolence remain for us to 
water with the " bitter tears of folly; 55 the memen- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 21 

tos of our improvement are indelible — time can 
never obliterate them. 

Here we have received impressions which will 
lay the foundation for future usefulness — here we 
have been constantly exerting a moral influence 
upon each other, and that influence whether saluta- 
ry or destructive, will never cease to be felt, not 
even while the recollection that we have had an ex- 
istence remains. 

We are liable to errors and misguidings, to defects 
and frailties — mine I acknowledge have been many 
— let charity throw a veil over them and consign 
them to oblivion. 

Life is short and fleeting ; much is to be accom- 
plished in a little time, and whatever work we would 
perform must be done quickly. Time bears us 
swiftly on its silken wings with an imperceptible 
progress ; —soon the fair cheek will be imprinted 
with furrows and the dark locks blanched with the 
frosts of winter^ We must now contract such hab- 
its as will be permanent, and direct our minds to 
the source whence our affections spring. Our hap- 
piness depends entirely on the improvement of our 
time and talents, and we shall be accountable to God 
for the good use we make of them. 

In surveying the future, an impenetrable mist con- 
ceals it from our view — we are ignorant of the 
allotments of Providence. Some of our paths may 
be strewed with roses, while others may be planted 

with thorns. 

2 



22 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

One philanthropic soul may go to the western 
wild, and wear out her existence in christianizing 
the iC poor Indian " — she may find a grave far from 
the land of her fathers, but strangers will bedew it 
with tears of affection. 

Another, glowing with ardor and holy zeal, may 
cross the foaming deep to bear the gospel to Pagan 
lands, to inform the dying heathen of a Saviour, 
and lead them to abolish their superstitious ceremo- 
nies. The waters of the Pacific may wail around 
her grave, but she will have rescued souls as 
"crowns of her rejoicing in the day of the Lord." 
If we, my friends, were certain that usefulness was 
to be our compass, and >by it we should direct our 
course, our separation would be less painful. 

My beloved Instructress,* to you how much we 
are indebted ! You have been our counsellor and 
friend — you have been our teacher and companion. 
You have, by your affability, stimulated us to con- 
tinued exertions. You are worthy of our love and 
esteem ; you have instructed us in knowledge, and 
while you have excited us to cultivate our minds, 
you have directed our thoughts upward to an Holy 
Being. To you we owe an immense debt, a debt 
we can never discharge; — thy love is engraven on 
our hearts — it is recorded in Heaven. 

Written in Saco, July 1, 1330. 
What pleasing emotions pervade the soul of an 

* Miss H-r- of Northampton, Mass, 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 23 

enthusiastic lover of nature, as he contemplates the 
grand luminary of day just sinking beneath the 
western horizon, and diffusing over the face of cre- 
ation the most enchanting loveliness ! The undu- 
lating surface of the meandering rivulet displays 
cc one burning sheet of living gold," and the sereni- 
ty of the evening is only disturbed by the gentle 
zephyrs sighing among the branches of the lofty 
trees, and by the harmonious notes of the lovely 
Handels of nature lulling themselves to repose. 
The soul is hushed into peaceful tranquility by such 
objects and sounds. The sun has made his exit in 
the western concave, " twilight has deepened into 
gloom," and night's pale regent appears in the vault 
of Heaven, dispelling the dark, misty clouds, and 
transmitting her benign radiance on the world be- 
low. The stars, Hesperus excepted, are almost 
annihilated at her approach, having in their humil- 
iation concealed themselves from public gaze. My 
thoughts from Nature rise to Nature's God I read 
his awful name " emblazoned high " in golden 
characters — behold his Omnipotence in the forma- 
tion of those innumerable orbs, which are wheeling 
their courses i:i the expansive firmament, inhabited 
by beings whose organs are constructed to meet 
their peculiar circumstances, and who doubtless 
never have incurred the Divine displeasure, but are 
happy in innocence and purity. How insignificant, 
worthless and ill-deserving does self appear, com- 
pared with those myriads of pure, joyous intelli- 



%i MEMOIR OF MRS.SAWYER. 

gences ! Contemplating this scene of magnificence 
and beauty contrasted with our wretchedness and 
imbecility, one reflection animates the spirits — it is 
that the mighty Maker has provided an expiatory 
sacrifice for sin 3 we apply to the only remedy and 
it proves effectual 3 the soul mounts on wings of 
Faith to the celestial Paradise, where the song 
" Worthy the Lamb/' chanted by angels and puri- 
fied spirits, floats sweetly around. 

With such sublime reflections, and in imagina- 
tion listening to the silvery sounds, floating through 
upper air, we may enjoy a " feast of reason and a 
flow of soul." 

Thus to a contemplative mind imbued with a love 
of nature, new and varied beauties constantly un- 
fold themselves — fitted to please the eye, regale 
the senses, calm the agitated bosom, and direct the 
mind to that Source whence its existence was de- 
rived and to whom it is indebted for all its faculties. 5? 

*« NIGHT MUSINGS," — in connexion embody cor- 
responding IDEAS. 

I love to wander forth at eve, 

To catch the ingering ray — 
See sun-light bright just on the leave, 

And part with closing day; 

Sweet to reflect alone a wile, 
To soothe the grief-worn breast — 

The weary feelings to beguile, 
And silence ills to rest. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 25 

I love to linger, as I view 

The nearer star appear — 
Her lamp well-trimmed — all lighted too, 

To cheer the sky so drear ; 

And then another, far in lieu, 

Is stepping forth to sight, 
Adding fresh beauty to the blue, 

JJy contrast with its light — 

What congregations of them rush — 

Their lights as quick are gone — 
Just as bright hope-gleams on us gush, 

Promise, but ne'er perform. 

' Tis Faith proclaims a rising day, 

Eternal sunshine bright, 
A fixed, a never-ending ray, 

Of strong, enduring light. 



TO A FRIEND. 

Often when night assumes her potent reign, 
Empaling earth beneath her iron chain, 

Has mem'ry flung to me thy image dear — 
Roused the sweet cadence of thy well known voice, 
Bringing afresh hours of departed joys — 

When sweet affection bade thee linger here. 

' Mid the bright sun-light, and the darksome shower, 
Perchance it be, clouds o'er thy view will lower, 

Let ev'ry varying scene reveal to thee — 
In one fond heart a chord attuned thoirlt find, 
Ever to vibrate with thy luted mind — 

Thus mellowing, cause grief's gloomy shades to flee. 

4 



26 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

Rest, dearest, — rest, — tho' Eden's scenes, withdrawn, 
Can ne'er be found on Earth's fair, painted lawn, 

Where brightest tints are faded — oh P how soon — 
E'en while we gaze — enraptured with delight — 
Fond, budding hopes are struck with chilling blight , 

And misty clouds envelope us in gloom! * 

Is earth then lightly held 1 Speed, speed the thought ! 
Should we esteem it less, because 'tis not 

Of lasting nature and of changeless dye 1 
Ever to God, unchangeable — above, 
Our thoughts, our being and affections move — 

Then, happy hour ! — we meet beyond the sky. 

These extracts are made without much selection. 
In doing this, the writer would not advocate for 
them the claim to literary elegance or poetical 
taste. Nothing could be farther from her spirit and 
intentions. Intellectual eminence was, indeed, a 
point beyond the summit of her mental vision ; for 
although the cultivation of her faculties was to her 
a source of enjoyment, yet her most ingenuous ac- 
knowledgments could never have admitted the bare 
possibility of distinction, and her humility, self-dif- 
fidence and disinterestedness adjudged her efforts 
to perpetual oblivion. 

If I have erred in thus transcending the limits she 
assigned them, the principle which actuates me must 
be my vindication, for it was through no agency of 

* The friend to whom these lines were addressed died, soon 
after, suddenly, in the very bloom of life — thus verifying, im- 
pressively, their sad signification. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 27 

hers, that any thing which escaped her pen, has 
ever been exposed to the public eye. 

It was in the summer of 1830, while absent at 
school, that her conscience was awakened and her 
attention directed with solicitude to her eternal in- 
terests. Deeply engaged in the acquisition of 
knowledge, the thought which suggested itself and 
aroused her from her delusive security was this — - 
" what are my motives to action ? Is the glory of 
God the governing principle of my conduct? In 
pursuing this branch of useful science, is the honor 
of God my aim and intention ? " This period of 
self-examination and inquiry resulted in a deeper 
conviction of the sinfulness of her nature, her de- 
pendence on divine grace and need of the purifying 
influences of the Holy Spirit. It was not, however, 
until the following spring that she submitted to the 
terms of the gospel and found joy and peace in be- 
lieving. Soon after, she publicly consecrated her- 
self to God, confessed Christ, and received the sa- 
cred symbols of his death. Circumstances connec- 
ted with this event are thus described in a letter to 
her absent sisters — under date of 

"Kennebunk, May 24, 1831. 
My Dear Sisters, — The emotions which agi- 
tate my mind, when I attempt to address you, are 
indescribable. For several years I have been Phar- 
isaical, depending in a great measure upon my own 
exertions for salvation, although I candidly avowed 






28 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

the orthodox faith and sincerely believed in regen- 
eration, &c, yet, somehow, I imagined God viewed 
me with complacency, and that, finally, I should be 
converted though not willing to resign the world 
then. For three or four past years, I have been at 
times much distressed, so much so, that it was im- 
possible to conceal my feelings ; — at such seasons 
to quiet my conscience, I generally resorted to God 
and frequently prayed earnestly that I might sur- 
render before it should be too late. Indeed, I can- 
not express to you all that has occupied my mind 
for the last six weeks. I was however much dis- 
tressed, but determined not to yield until our meet- 
ings commenced. This occurred last Tuesday^ L* 
resolved not to stay away from any, and though vv^ 
had seven in one day, I attended them all. In the 
mean time, we had ministers and others at the house 
all much engaged. But when the meetings - were 
finished, and I found myself in the same condition, 
if not worse, I was almost in despair. I maintain- 
ed an obstinate struggle until Saturday, afternoon,, 
when with the assistance of God's grace, I trust 1 
become a willing subject. Indeed there has been 
a great change wrought in my feelings, whether a 
saving one or not, I cannot now positively assert. 
1 feel perfectly resigned to the will of God. I need 
your prayers. May my hopes be entirely founded 
on the rock Christ Jesus, and may the love of a 
Saviour elevate me above sublunary joys. 
The result of the meeting, so far, is, that a n-unv- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 29 

-her have been hopefully converted — about thir- 
ty attend the inquiry meeting. Every thing wears 
an air of solemnity and christians are awake, per- 
forming their duty. A revival has commenced in 
Saco also — fifty attend the meetings of inquiry. 
N. B. Mr. L — 5 s family received sad intelligence 
yesterday. S. A. died on her passage from Liver- 
pool to Havana — have not yet learned the partic- 
ulars. I hope I shall be enabled to go forward in 
the strength of the Lord and devote the remainder 
of my life to his service — 1 have been wishing to 
write to you and still delaying, because I cannot 
express my feelings as I would wish — however you 
must be content with this now, and conceal my frail- 
ties with the veil^of charity. H." 

v To another: 

" Kennebunk, June 6, 1831. 

*My Dear Cousin, — Having recently received 
an affectionate letter from Edwin, I have seated my- 
self to inform you of the contents and the welcome 
reception which your last letter met with, although 
unanswered. 

E. mentions that a " three days' meeting" was 
held at N., which he had the happiness of attend- 

hg, aft>d which it is hoped affected, ultimately, 
his views and feelings. I am rejoiced to hear it, for 
if any need the consolations of religion, I think it 
is the orphan. And if they resort to the throne of 
grace, they have immediate encouragement, for to 



30 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



whom are the promises made more explicitly than 
to the fatherless ? I understand there has been a re- 
vival of religion in Gorham, if so, I hope you have 
not, dear cousin, remained indifferent and despised 
these things ; on the contrary, you may have become 
a subject of its saving influence, and may perhaps 
now be rejoicing in the hope of a glorious immor- 
tality. That individual is an object of the deepest 
pity, who places his supreme affections on worldly 
good. This life is transient — we soon pass away 
— " the places which now know us, will soon know 
us no more forever." Our probationary existence 
is rapidly winging its flight, and happy are we, if 
ready, waiting for the coming of our Lord. 

I trust I have become one of that happy number 
whose God is the Lord — one who is not ashamed 
"to confess Christ" before a gainsaying and wick- 
ed world, for I am confident if I do not confess him 
here, He will renounce me before "his Father and 
the holy angels." Why are we ashamed to be 
deemed the followers of the Lamb ? For no other 
reason than that our hearts are naturally at enmity 
with him and opposed to his righteous government — 
"And when I blush, be now my shame, 
That I no more revere his name." 

It has required an effort for me to address you 
thus, because i know the " carnal heart " will have 
an inclination to deride these things — but, hoping 
you are now interested or may be soon, and if not, 
that you are not indifferent to the happiness of your 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 31 

near friends, I have thus performed my duty, giv- 
ing you a friendly admonition and avowing my own 

sentiments." 

The following was directed to a relative, a youth 

of fourteen years, one whom she regarded as a 

brother, having lived in her father's house since the 

death of his parents at an early age. 

" Kennebunk, May, 1S31. 
My Dear Edwin, — With pleasure I embrace 
the present time to express to you the joy I felt 
when I heard of the happy change in your views 
and /eelings. And you have really resolved to con- 
secrate your all to God ? He is, indeed, the only 
object worthy of your supreme attachment and high- 
est affection* Live near to him, walk humbly be- 
fore him, and by prayer and supplication, make 
known to him all your desires. Do you not often 
wish for some secluded spot where sin can never 
enter ? When you observe the operations of your 
own mind, when you analyze your own feelings 
and discover depravity within, temptations and tri- 
als without, are you not often led to exclaim "who 
is sufficient for these things ? " 

But, dear E. this world is not our home, — the 
present is, appropriately, a season of preparation 
for an endless life to come — if we do have afflic- 
tions and disappointments here, what of that ? 
Shall a few obstacles prevent or discourage us ? 
Let us remember that the " heavier the cross, the 
brighter the crown." Shall a glorious Saviour suf- 



32 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

fer for his enemies, and shall we remain unmoved 
by his dying agonies ? The blood of Christ ap- 
plied to our souls is the greatest blessing we can 
possess, but "poured upon our heads, the severest 
curse." We possess, dear E. a " kindly monitor " 

— let us listen to these inward teachings, the whis- 
perings of conscience, the inspirations of the spirit 

— let us obey the voice which speaks from heaven 
and apply our hearts diligently to its precepts. But 
there is no necessity for my adding more at present, 
you have the friends of Jesus around you, your Bi- 
ble and your God. 

You requested me to inform you of proceedings 
here, of late, and the state of religious feeling. I 
will commence a brief detail of events from last 
Tuesday which was the day appointed for our meet- 
ings to commence. * * * . * 

* * Oh ! that w T e might, through di- 

vine aid, influence our dear brothers to make their 
peace with God. I have heard that there has been 
a great revival in Gorham, perhaps A. may have 
become interested ; I think it your duty to write to 
him, immediately, recount to him your feelings, 
hopes and fears, and entreat him to become recon- 
ciled to his heavenly Father. 

The " Wells " meetings were very solemn and 
impressive. On Wednesday I went over in the 
stage, as I was prevented from attending the day 
previous on account of the rain, but as I am one of 
those beings, in a great measure dependent on th 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 33 

clearness of the sky for composure and health, I did 
not enjoy myself as I otherwise should ; but with 
the exception of a pain in my head, and some un- 
pleasant emotions produced by the agitations of the 
stage, I had a pleasant and I trust a profitable time. 
A revival has commenced there. I never witness- 
ed such deep solemnit}^ — about one hundred in- 
quirers — returned home Thursday night. Let us 
" praise the Lord, for his wonderful works to the 
children of men." 

Young Mr. G. called here a few moments since. 
He appears very amiable, and is calculated, in my 
opinion, for eminent, service in the cause of Christ. 
You must listen to his reproof and ask his counsel 
and instruction. When he is absent you will have 
others of the family to converse with 5 you must 
not shrink from communicating your feelings to 
them, as they all, doubtless, sincerely desire your 
happiness, and seek the promotion of your dearest 
and best interests. You are placed in a most de- 
sirable situation. I would wish, most earnestly, 
such another for any one, or all of my brothers. 

Go forward, dear brother, in the strength of the 
Lord — he will never deceive you, but will sustain 
you in all your trials. With kind regards to all the 
family, I remain your affectionate sister, 

Harriet, 55 

To the same, under date of July 6. 

"My Dear E.— Knowing a letter from me won id 



34 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

always be acceptable to you, I accordingly com- 
mence, though many, ah ! a great many yet remain 
unanswered. * # # * 

Last Sabbath, having previously been examined, 
I was admitted to the church. It was a very sol- 
emn step, but I felt desirous of acknowledging 
Christ before men, and uniting myself with the peo- 
ple of God. Fourteen beside myself, were admit- 
ted. Oh ! that I could be instrumental of doing 
much for the promotion of the Redeemer's king- 
dom. My feelings are not so uniform as I could 
wish, sometimes I desire to leave home and connex- 
ions and go immediately to a foreign land to in- 
struct the benighted heathen ; again, 1 am doubting 
and often thinking there is no reality in religion, 
and that all my hopes are naught but delusive 
dreams. But if I never obtain heaven, I desire to 
do all in my power for the advancement of religion 
and the cause of righteousness and peace upon the 
earth. 

Mr. informed me that you either were pro- 
pounded, or would be, next Sabbath, for admission 
to the church. 1 :ejoice that you are tp take a de- 
cided stand — hope you will ever enjoy the light of 
God's reconciled countenance. I read, the other 
day, some verses written by — — s-s of Andover. I 
insert them for your perusal, thinking you would 
like them, I an* in great haste, and my pen is very 
obstinate. Yours, affectionately, H. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 35 

To the same, at Dartmouth College, in Hanover, 

c Surrounded by the family, you will easily imag- 
ine my letter will be composed in the finest style — 
however, shall not apologize for my well turned ex- 
pressions, but proceed immediately to detail as 
briefly as possible, the most important events which 
have transpired since we last separated. 

I have been disappointed in my expectations of 

attending the High School in ■ , this term — 

the family I formerly boarded with could not accom- 
modate me. I attend to Algebra and Arithmetic 
here. Mr. B. is my Instructor. # * 

Do you, dear E. make advances in the christian 
course, and is your lamp trimmed and burning, 
waiting for the coming of your Lord ? How sadly 
do we wander from God ! How remiss in duty ! 
Why do we allow our affections to be so firmly fixed 
on earthly objects ? Let us direct them steadfastly 
to that Being, who alone is worthy of our supreme 
attachment. * * * * 

Young as you are you have 
been perplexed, undoubtedly, and perhaps often so 
harassed by anxiety as to exclaim " ! that I had 
the wings of a dove, that I might fly away and be 
at rest." * # * * For the present, you find 
enough to employ your time, — and I suspect, how- 
ever arduous your labors have been heretofore, you 
gladly relinquished the office of teacher, to return 



36 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

to them again. It appears to me you might enjoy 
yourself in College. True, your pathway is not 
always strewed with flowers, but rugged and pre- 
cipitous cliffs often intercept it; yet you have com- 
pany, and that, if pleasant, will lighten your jour- 
ney, while emulation raises you almost impercepti- 
bly over the heights. If I allow myself to stride 
thus over this paper I shall be encroaching on the 
rights of others, I will therefore dismiss my pen, 
after wishing you, dear E. very much happiness 
until we meet, and be assured I am ever your affec- 
tionate friend and dear cousin, H. 

N. B. The minerals you have collected for me, 
particularly the petrified substances — I hope you 
will have quite a variety by the next time we meet. 
I should like to visit Hanover next summer, and 
perhaps I may, if not otherwise engaged. I shall 
hear from you probably many times before then. 
The weather for the last three weeks has been very 
mild, no sleighing at all, — before, for some time, 
the cold was extreme. How do you like the Ver- 
mont winters ? They are exceedingly dreary in 
my view. I should shudder at the idea of residing 
permanently in Vermont — it is quite cold enough 
in Maine, even in our southern part. It was very 
pleasant in Orford, last summer — it is a pretty, ro- 
mantic spot — it must have seemed to you quite like 
home to attend Mr. C's. meetings. Did it not for- 
cibly remind you of K. ? — the scenes of your child- 
hood — and then, it awakened lively associations 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 37 

of mingled joy and sorrow. My dreams of happi- 
ness are nearly over — I have frequently awaked 
from them, to taste the bitterness of regret, and 
now begin to realize earth possesses no permanent 
enjoyment, that its bliss is evanescent as the cloud. 
My love to Mr. and Mrs. Campbell. Have you 
seen little S., and do you not love her ? — A dear — 
sweet child. Adieu — Harriet." 

Such was her character by divine grace; aiming 
at the true object of existence, the possession of 
those attainments which constitute true wisdom, 
the knowledge of God, and of her own heart. 

Her interest, now, in the happiness of her dear- 
est connexions received a new impulse and direc- 
tion. She had been a faithful teacher to her young 
brothers ; now, while she sought their intellectual 
advancement, with self-denying, and careful exer- 
tion, she pointed their feet to the path of peace, daily 
commending them to God, in the exercise of devout 
and humble supplication. How deep an interest in 
their temporal happiness and spiritual welfare, the 
tenor of her private correspondence testifies. Her 
letters to them were replete with judicious counsel 
and a tender regard for their peace. The follow- 
ing is extracted from a letter to a young brother, in 
New-Orleans. 

"Very dear brother C. — Again are you sep- 
arated from your paternal roof, and exposed to tri- 
als and privations. You are beyond the reach of 



38 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



friendly view, though anxiety and solicitude follow 
you. Always remember life is short, at longest — 
that we are /rail mortals, born to die. However 
young, there is no security. Death is appointed 
unto all. Many are called suddenly into eternity , 
without a moment's warning — a thousand unfor- 
seen events may occur to shorten our existence. 
The command is to be ready. The Bible, the word 
of God, informs us that a preparation is necessary 
in order to enter Heaven. How little will earth's 
concerns appear in eternity! O that we might du- 
ly regard the culture of the moral feelings — our 
minds which live forever ! Let us so improve every 
precious hour. 

Our hearts are sinful and corrupt — we have bro- 
ken God's holy commands, and deserve everlasting, 
misery, but a Saviour has loved us, and died for us, 
and shall he suffer — shall he die in vain I Will 
you not think of his love for you, and will you not 
thank him for his kindness ? You are but a boy, al- 
most alone in the world — you cannot trust those 
about you — then commit yourself to God : He 
will protect you. Look to Him in prayer and re- 
gard him as your best friend. 

Regard the Sabbath. Though others idle it away,, 
it is sinful for you to do it. Its precious hours were 
given us for our improvement — to attend to the 
immortal soul and prepare for death. Attend meet- 
ing whenever you can : our days on earth are few, 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 39 

and every month brings us nearer to the eternal 
world. 

Be careful and not expose yourself unnecessarily. 
If you die, and you may, far from us all, if you are 
only a Christian, a good, pious boy, how much con- 
solation would there be, — and how miserable would 

it make us all, to hear that C died impenitent, 

and unmindful of God and eternity. This may be 
the last letter, you will ever receive from me ; I 
may die before I see you, or you may never return; 
now I charge you not to forget what I have written 
— though you are absent from friends, or sick, or in 
trouble, recollect God will take care of you if you 
only ask him. * * * * 

You were named for l he good Buchanan, emi- 
nently holy and devoted. Write whenever you can, 
and may your life be preserved many years and you 
be a blessing to the world. 

Your affectionate sister, H. N. "VW 

Though it is evident from scripture, that thoso 
precepts which inculcate christian action are em- 
bodied in terms expressive of great assiduity, still 
it has been asserted by authority not to be contra- 
vened, that the grandest operations both in the 
worlds of nature and of grace are silent in their 
agency, and always best known in their results. 
The dew refreshes and fertilizes the earth, but its 
action, as well as the agency by which it is pro- 
duced, is silent and unobserved. 



40 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

It will be readily conceded that many motives, 
aside from pure disinterestedness, may co-operate 
in the gratification of those benevolent emotions 
which extend to public acts of sacrifice, liberality 
and exertion: the full estimate of such services, 
after all, must be proportional with the moral ex- 
cellence and real worth of the individual. And 
there is no reason to believe that the desire of ap- 
plause or self-promotion can form any part of the 
basis of those feelings, which perfectly harmonize 
with scriptural principles. But human nature is 
sanctified but in part — a truth very generally ad- 
mitted by christians of every name and nation, and 
as ancient as the antediluvian age. The motive 
decides the^charaeter of the action, and as such He 
who seeth not as man seeth will most assuredly 
render to every man according as his work shall be 3 
and many an one whom the world knew not — whom 
scarcely the church visible knew — whose names 
were never enrolled upon lists of splendid benefac- 
tions, canonized, or eulogized, or exhibited to the 
admiring gaze as stars of the first magnitude in the 
chronicles of the church and in the world of chris- 
tian enterprise — despised, neglected, yet awaken- 
ed to a new spiritual life by that agency which is 
invisible, the faithful occupant of the one talent, in 
the quiet discharge of every relative duty, by self- 
denial and self-subjection, in reproach^ in poverty, 
in doing and suffering the will of God — such an 
one, arriving at the measure of the stature of per- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 41 

fection in Christ, according to the language of in- 
spiration, and found among the number of the Lord's 
hidden ones, as such will be recognized by Him in 
the final day and shine as the brightness of the fir- 
mament forever and ever, in the kingdom of heaven. 
The view before us represents, more particular- 
ly, the private life and domestic character of the 
deceased. Judging superficially, her name might 
not be reckoned among those most conspicuous for 
zeal and engagedness in the varied departments of 
extensive public charities ; but few young persons, 
probably, could be found more faithful, constant, 
active, and indefatigably persevering in a private 
sphere of oparation . 

Retiring from the gaze of observation, she ever 
reserved her most sacred feelings for the sympa- 
thies of affectionate confidence; for although inter- 
ested in every object of christian benevolence, yet 
it was, principally, within the circle of home duties 
and home friendships that she vested the chief at- 
tributes of her vocation. Consulting her own 
choice, her home was her centre of attraction — her 
appropriate sphere of operation; — in relation to 
christian obligation, she rejoiced that she might do 
what she could in securing the divine blessing for 
her friends, and by extending a holy influence over 
the hearts of those with whom she was intimately 
associated. 

In this way she believed that the cause of truth 
and vital piety might be most effectually promo- 



42 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

ted, and the divine grace most illustriously magni- 
fied. 

Her attachment to her early friends was strong 
and constant — many of these, it was her delightful 
privilege to know, died in faith having received 
the promises and entered into rest . 

The annexed lines were inscribed to the memory 
of a young friend and relative, Miss Mary Anna, 
danghter of Mr D. H., of Portland, who died at the 
age of seventeen. In her society she had passed 
many hours of enjoyment, and for her she had long 
cherished a tender and enduring love. A few days 
before her death she partook of the consecrated 
emblems — her next communion was in the upper 
sanctuary, with the assembly of adoring saints 
in the church triumphant above. 

" Weep not for me ! " let not a lingering sorrow 
Shade thy bright brow upon the coming morrow, 

Mother ! — look not thus pleading — 
'Tis vain to woo my spirit back to earth, 
It claims a holier and a happier birth, 

Joyous, though earth's receding. 

Weep not for me ! — though I pass the home-bound band 
To dwell in a brighter, far more blissful land, 

Thy daughter, true, doth leave thee — 
What — though thy earthly hopes are painful crushed, 
Let every murm'ring sigh be closely hushed* 

Though lone — let it not grieve thee. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 43 

Weep not for me — my angels brothers say, 
"Sister, there's nought to tempt thy soul away 

From the pure fount above ; 
• Sin enters not to mar thy placid breast, 
JVor pain to rifle thee of future rest — 

All — all is peace and love." — 

Weep not for me — the chain tho' burst apart, 
Which linked thy fond ones close about thy heart, 

Holds other ties to glad thee ; 
A precious loan ! — ah ! mother, press it light, 
jLest thy fond yearnings snap its ringlets bright, 

It perish then to sad thee ! 

Weep not for me — the unseen glories rise 
To chant me upward to the blissful skies, 

My spirit fain would soar — 
The Saviour bids me to the land of rest, 
He smiles — and owns me as his chosen-blest — 

I meet thee — oh ! — once more ! 

'Weep not for me — let not a ling'ring sorrow 
Shade thy bright brow upon the coming morrow: 

Yet Jesus felt a gloom, 
^When first he met the plaintive moaning tone 
'Of sister-wailing o'er a riven home, 

About a brother's tomb. 

To -a class of Sabbath Scholars in Cambridge, Mass. 
Written by request of a friend. 
"Each season has its peculiar impress, not ex- 
cepting the noiseless winter with its desolate pall 
scattered o'er the extent of scenery and chilling the 

4 



44 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

prospect, by shutting up the life-gush of animation. 
Its suspended sympathies and colorless, cheerless 
aspect present to you many pensive recollections of 
the past, more especially as it is the grave of the 
departing year, and with it are enshrouded its many 
returnless joys, omitted duties and mispent privile- 
ges. Time, dear youth, has imperceptibly borne 
you on its hasty pinion, and brought you by its un- 
tiring flight to the eminence of a New- Year, and as 
you have reached a summit of contemplation, we 
trust you will receive a few hints suggestedfor your 
improvement and future welfare." 

But I omit an important part, on account of its 
length, and insert the conclusion of the whole. 

"Doubtless the period of life presents to you 
great duration, but should you realize many years 
on earth and attain unto the age of your fathers, 
yet you would be compelled, eventually, to exclaim 
— "few and evil have been the days of the years 
of my pilgrimage." How pathetic are the strains 
of the pious Job, on the brevity of life — "my days 
are swifter than a post" — even than the fleet hor- 
ses which pass from one conveyance to another, to 
communicate important intelligence. They roll 
over the rough defiles of danger, glide over the 
smooth road of pleasure, and haste rapidly to thei r 
appointed goal. He again compares them to a 
weaver's shuttle. You, my young friends, who have 
noticed the process of weaving, have seen the dex- 
terous management of the shuttle and the swiftness 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 45 

of its motion ; and if life appeared more rapid in its 
termination than this little instrument to him, whose 
years had numbered more than a century and half, 
how important that you, whose age is confined to 
a far less limited period, realize the design of pro- 
bation — the consequences impending on the salu- 
tary improvement of time, and the value of that lit- 
tle space in which so much is to be accomplished. 
It appears as if you could scarcely forbear exclaim- 
ing — "so teach us to number our days, that we 
may apply our hearts unto wisdom. 

God has the first claim upon your time and affec- 
tions. The Saviour says " seek ye first the king- 
dom of heaven, 55 that is, place your supreme interest 
and chief affection there; regard it as the summit of 
your wishes, the home of your heart, and the final 
resting place of your soul. As your bodies are mor- 
tal, they claim, comparatively, but little attention. 
It is the imperishable soul, the deathless spirit that 
demands your highest concern. This has been de- 
posited in your keeping ; the value with which you 
estimate and the manner you cherish it, will be re- 
quired at your hands. If a priceless gem were pre- 
sented to you, would you not cast contempt on the 
giver, by spurning the offering, disfiguring its sur- 
face and rendering it worthless ? — It is thus you 
treat your precious soul, if you allow it to gather 
on its surface the mists of sin, to wreck on the shoals 
of temptation and lastly sink down to remediless wo ! 

Listen to the earnest appeals of your Teachers, 



46 MEMOIU OF MRS. SAWYER. 

and now no longer slight their friendly warnings; 
then you shall unitedly shine as the stars, pure un- 
wavering lights in the firmament of Heaven, sub- 
missive to his will as those bright orbs, and vocal to 
his praise, as they conduce to heighten it, by mani- 
festing the wonders of creative power: — but if, on 
the contrary, you persevere in refusing reproof and 
persist in slighting proffered pardon — then, must 
you hear the unwelcome words burst from the Sa- 
viour's lips " Depart from me, for I never knew 
you." 

And here an extract from a letter to an absent 
member of the family might be appropriately intro- 
duced. It was addressed to a brother. He has 
found a distant grave. His tomb is in yon western 
" valley." Yet to that consecrated enclosure, imag- 
ination turns ; for within those narrow precincts, 
repose all that was mortal of one whose memory 
will ever be cherished — with whom many sacred 
and tender interests were inseparably interwoven 
— a youth of promise whose early prospects of pro- 
tracted life and prosperity were in an unexpected 
moment blighted by the damps of death ! 

A tribute of affectionate regard is preserved in 
justice to his memory, from which the subjoined is 
a quotation: — 

A very general impression of his early child- 
hood remains on my mind, yet through the fading 
vista of receding years, I recal his bright and beau- 
tiful features, and the expression of quiet thought- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 47 

fulness which marked his brow, engaging attention 
and giving promise fair, as budding Spring, of fu- 
ture opening bloom. 

Sedate, quiet and retiring, yet sprightly and ac- 
tive in every innocent pastime, his general personal 
appearance in very early life was circumspect and 
exemplary. 

His ingenuity and industry were quite conspicu- 
ous at an early age. Every leisure moment, his lit- 
tle vacancies of time were filled by some mental ef- 
fort or some mechanical exercise. In all his under- 
takings he was remarkable for an invincible resolu- 
tion. Whatever obstacles opposed themselves in 
the pursuit of any favorite object, were sure to be 
overcome by his untiring vigor — for his was not a 
mind to be baffled and defeated by any common or 
ordinary difficulty. 

At school he was commended by his teachers for 
diligence, and at the public examinations, he was 
noticed for promptness in recitation. At the age of 
twelve years he was sent to the Academy at Alfred, 
and returned home with high testimonials of good 
scholorship and correct deportment. Under date of 
April 10, a few months after, at the close of the 
term, the Principal, Rev. Mr. L. directed another 
letter to his sister, (the subject of this biography,) 
giving an account of an interesting revival of reli- 
gion in that place, of which he counted him an 
hopeful subject, describing his character and attain- 
ments in terms of respect and affection. After par- 



48 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

ticularizing, he continues — " I have no doubt but 

he has good ground to entertain a hope. Dr. 

who boards with him, and who was before inclined 
to be skeptical about the work, says that the case of 
John has convinced him, that it can be nothing less 
than the power of God. He told me last evening 
that this one case had made a deeper impression 
on his feelings, than every thing else which had 
transpired. Nothing had been said to excite the 
feelings of your brother. He was not in the com- 
pany of those serious at all, except at meeting, nor 
had any one conversed with him, since the revival 
commenced — the Lord has done it : — rejoice with 
us, and let your parents share in the joy." The in- 
dividual above mentioned whose attention was ar- 
rested by this event, soon after, in his own view, 
and in the opinion of others, cordially embraced 
the gospel, and has since that time sustained the 
reputation of a worthy member of the church of 
Christ. 

A simple observation, which occurred at the time, 
it may not be improper to give a place here. When 
the Rev. Mr. T. (resident there,) knowing his sit- 
uation at his boarding-house in a room with thought- 
less companions, questioned John respecting his op- 
portunities for meditation 1 and retirement — how 
under such circumstances he could find communion 
with his own heart, and with Heaven, — he remark- 
ed that he " could never forget the glow which 
lighted up his countenance, and the brightness which 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 49 

beamed in his eye," when, in reply to this, he 
told him that ci he went up into the Mountain to 
pray." A woody eminence rises abruptly and forms 
the western boundary of the village, called the 
"Mountain. 55 

In regard to his intellect a sound understanding 
was its distinguishing feature ; iii the higher de- 
partments of Mathematics, and in those studies, gen- 
erally, which required severe mental exercise he 
excelled. And in the attainment of the various 
branches of study included in a course of education, 
his aim was utility, selecting those only which prom- 
ised to himself, eventually practical benefit — ap- 
plication to the common and necessary business of 
life. But time rolled away, and the period arrived 
which was to introduce him to new scenes. Hav- 
ing finished his preparatory course at school, the 
nature of his disposition inclined to active employ- 
ment. His constitutional enterprise forbade a close 
confinement to abstract pursuits — accordingly, with 
the advice and consent of his parents and friends, he 
prepared to leave the paternal roof. He embarked 
for New York, thence proceeded to Albany, and 
thence to the Western States. The view before us 
represents his character under a new aspect — he 
was entering the broad area of a more public sphere, 
about to take his station in society on the ground 
of individual action and responsibility. Under such 
circumstances, going out from kindred to a land of 
strangers, few minds, imbued with sound principles 



50 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

of action and well regulated feelings, could avoid 
being seriously impressed. It was under date of 
Auo-. 24, 1835, that the subject of this memoir wrote 
him as follows, — * * # * " Wealth is of very 
little consequence — a " good name" is far more 
desirable. If you can acquire a competency with 
right motives and conduct, you will secure happi- 
ness, otherwise misery will be your reward. Life is 
short — it is certainly our duty to " work while the 
day lasts " — to be industrious, but over-anxiety for 
the future is unscriptural. The command is — 
seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all other 
things, essential to your peace and well being, shall 
be added unto you. The sinful and the profane 
undervalue such considerations, and even turn them 
to ridicule, but little do they know how soon they 
may feel the importance of them. Now, you are 
deprived of the privileges of the gospel and are as- 
sociated with the irreligious. Little did your friend 
Augustus* think that his days on earth would be 
so speedily numbered, even before he reached the 
period of manhood ! " 

After noting some particulars of his last illness 
and sudden death, she adds further, 

" This ought to serve as an admonition to you to 
prepare for a summons to the eternal ivorld." 

Surrounded by worldly influences and associates, 
as he had been for years, and engrossed recently 

with engagements, which from their novelty and 

« — — ■ < 

* Augustus F., only son of Mr. J. F., of Boston, Mass. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 51 

his peculiar turn of mind had absorbed his atten- 
tion, his feelings had gradually experienced a de- 
cline in religious interest ; the pursuits of the pres- 
ent life were undoubtedly encroaching upon the 
great work of preparation for an endless life to 
come — casting a shade over the realities of the in- 
visible world, and investing with new interest this 
transitory scene — when, suddenly, borne upon the 
breezes of heaven, a solemn requiem bursts upon 
his ear from the distant grave of his lamented 
friend ! But whatever may have been the state of his 
mind previously, if we credit the testimony of the 
pious friend in whose family he resided, it is evi- 
dent that this mournful intelligence, like a voice 
from Heaven, this sudden dissolution of a friend- 
ship which had cemented their hearts from the ten- 
derest years of their earliest acquaintance, spoke to 
his conscience with thrilling emphasis, — bidding him 
examine the foundation upon which he was rest- 
ing for eternity, until his own personal interest in 
the great salvation become with him, a subject, of 
frequent and anxious self-inquiry. From that time, 
it is believed, a work of preparation for the last af- 
fecting solemnities was gradually and imperceptibly 
carried on in his soul, until God in his wise provi- 
dence, in a mysterious manner, removed him from 
earth, to engage in a higher and holier service in 
that world where all his earth-born hopes, fears, 
joys, sorrows, regrets, anxieties and anticipations 
were known no more. 



52 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

Within less than one year from the time he re- 
ceived the foregoing communication he too was num- 
bered with the dead ! 

Some peculiar traits of character and properties 
©f mind have, before, been enumerated ; his letters 
■exemplify these, together with the virtues of his 
'heart — -those refined moral feelings which induced 
him steadily to avoid the evil, and find enjoyment 
only in what was innocent, pure, and good. Pre- 
cisroTS-and accuracy were predominant qualities of 
his intellect, — his imagination was not fanciful, but 
active, inventive, discriminating. His talent for 
drawing was perfectly a natural gift — but in music 
he had but little skill, though he played some tunes 
on the violin. 

He had a happy facility and readiness in adapting 
resources to circumstances — in every emergency or 
difficult occasion, he almost invariably had some ex- 
pedient, some proposition to improve or some sug- 
gestion to employ for his advantage. At the close 
of his Academical term at Limerick, in the Sum- 
mer of 1831, when he was thirteen years old, he 
was detained a few days beyond his expectation, 
feeing disappointed of a conveyance home so soon 
us 'he had anticipated. During this little interval, 
lie went into a shoe-maker's shop, and improved 
the vacant time in the manufacture of a pair of shoes 
for himself — as finished in their external appear- 
ance, as those formed by the practice of experienced 
workmen. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 53 

It is obvious, exclusively from bis own simple 
testimony — his description of his first introduction 
to the State — his subsequent travels in the interior 
— his faithfulness in the work he had engaged, that 
his was not a mind supine and indifferent to the va- 
rious objects around him. It is obvious that decis- 
ion, activity, energy and perseverance were eminent 
characteristics of himself. These qualities in the 
structure of his mind were quite conspicuous at an 
early age — in all his juvenile attempts — in all his 
rural excursions — in his general habits and de- 
meanor. 

This devotedness to bis favorite pursuits, the 
mental exercise to which he subjected himself, com- 
bined with his ardor of spirit, doubtless, laid the 
foundation for that insidious malady which was 
suddenly to unnerve every faculty of the soul, pros- 
trate his strength, and lay him in the grave ! 

Several letters were received by his parents, ex- 
pressive of the deep sympathy and regret which at- 
tended this afflictive event, and which serve to show 
in what respect his character was held. The quo- 
tation which follows is from a letter of J. L. W. 
Esq., to H. M'C. Esq., communicating the intelli- 
gence of his death. 

" It becomes my painful duty to inform you, if 
you have not before heard of it, that John is no 
more ! Mrs. W, writes me that he continued about 
as I left him, until Friday night, when he began to 
sink rapidly, became insensible, and so continued 



54 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

until his death which took place on Saturday eve- 
ning last. This event, I assure you, is truly afflic- 
ting to us. The stroke of death could not have fall- 
en nearer to us, unless it had taken a near relative. 
* # * * That one so young, so en- 
terprising, and who promised so fair for future use- 
fulness, should be thus cut down in the bloom of 
life, is a dispensation of Providence, which it is 
difficult for us, short-sighted mortals to understand. 
We know, however, that this as well as every oth- 
er event is directed by infinite Wisdom, and is there- 
fore right. One purpose of such a dispensation is, 
doubtless, to remind those who survive of the folly 
of calculating too much upon the prospects and en- 
joyments of this life — an admonition which I feel 
that I am in need of." ^ # * * * 
From H. M'C. Esq., to his parents: — - "To John 
during his residence in my family and at Fort W. 
1 had become strongly attached. His manners were 
so engaging, his ambition so worthy, and his enter- 
prise so distinguished, that I had learned to cherish 
for him the strongest regard, and to feel a kind of 
pride in his rapid improvement. John was indeed 
an uncommon boy. I have never met with one 
whose prospects for becoming distinguished and 
useful were fairer than his. His talents were pe- 
culiarly fitted for the business in which he was en- 
gaged, and the improvement he made was honora- 
ble to himself and gratifying to his friends. 

But in the very morning of his existence he has 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 55 

been cut down ; — standing as it were on the very- 
threshold of life, with wide prospects of happiness 
and usefulness before him, he has fallen a victim to 
the fell destroyer ! It is, verily, a dispensation of 
Providence which 1 it is difficult for us to understand. 
But as has been well said by our friend, it is not for 
man to scrutinize the acts of God. It is for Him 
to direct and control, and for us to be patient and 
submissive. It must be gratifying to you to know, 
amidst your affliction, that the character of your 
son was as pure as his talents were promising. A 
stranger to disappointment and free from those ex- 
cesses in which the young too frequently plunge, 
his spirit has returned to its Author, before it had 
been bowed by sorrow, or contaminated with vice. 
He received every attention in his sickness. I 
am informed that the funeral procession was one of 
the largest ever known in that city. 

In conclusion, permit me renewed ly to express to 
you how sincerely I sympathize with you all in this 
unexpected calamity. May the wells of Divine 
consolation be open to you, and may you derive all 
that comfort from your faith, which Christianity 
alone can afford." 

The last two contain a more particular account 
of the circumstances attending his death, and were 
the first received by his parents. 

***** "About ten days 

since he was taken sick with the bilious fever — the 

D 



56 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

common Autumnal disease of the country, and al- 
though his attack was marked in the commence- 
ment with some severity, yet it was not considered 
as very alarming, until the last day and a half of his 
sickness. On Friday eve, he was considered amend- 
ing and much better — during the night he began to 
sink and so continued through the next day, until 
about nine o'clock, P. M. when he ceased to breathe. 
His remains the next day (Sunday) were taken to* 
the Presbyterian church, and thence t& the grave,, 
attended by a numerous assembly of people who- 
regard his decease as a public loss. Perhaps there 
has never been an instance where a stranger, so 
young, succeeded so weJI in gaining the good will of 
those about him. In Fort Wayne, in Logansport 
and here at Indian apolisjfce was uniformly and great- 
ly beloved. He came into our Engineer depart- 
ment some time last August and advanced very rap- 
idly in his profession, and would, doubtless, if he 
had been spared, in a few years, have become an 
eminent Engineer. From his activity in business,, 
he succeeded, in gaining the confidence of the Chief 
Engineer — lived mostly in his family, when station- 
ary, and received from him and his lady, all the 
kindness of attention, advantage of society and 
knowledge of his profession, which they are so well 
calculated to give. It may possibly be some matter 
of consolation to his mother to know that after the 
first few days of his illness, Mrs. Williams returned 
to town and nursed him with all the kind care which 



MEMOIR OF MRS, SAWYER. 57 



would -have been bestowed by a mother or sister. 
She did not leave him during the day only for a few 
moments at a time, and but for a small portion of 
the night. Mr, Williams is now absent, and will 
probably write you on his return, as John lived with 
.him, somewhat as a member of his family. 

In such a moment of desolation, of hope and an- 
guish of mind^, I will not attempt to comfort you — 
for I know how unavailing the effort would be, for 
although I have never experienced similar bereave- 
ment, I have tasted the cup of bitterness — have felt 
the pang of parting with friends, and can now sym- 
pathize deeply with the father, who had so much 
cause for gratitude in the possession of such a son, 
so full of promise, so honorable and so good — with 
the Mother, whose earnest, longing, unceasing af- 
fections have been so constantly exercised for her 
absent child. I can almost realize her continued 
watchings, her trembling care, her deep anxiety to 
Jiear from the distant West — " the sojourn of her 
heart's fond hope." I can sympathize with the 
brothers and sisters, who have been so unexpected- 
ly deprived of a dear relative whom they have so 
many reasons to love and admire. I can feel and 
deeply participate in the anguish which must now 
overwhelm you all. J, too, in early life, was sep- 
arated from the family fire-side, from the smiles of 
brothers and sisters, from the tender affection of my 
mother. 1 can recollect her care so watchful, so 
unceasing, as it was almost weekly conveyed to me 

it 



58 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



in a strange land — in some degree, I can make 
your case mine, and almost feel how the cords of 
affection must burst — must be rent in twain, when 
under such circumstances, the dreadful message 
comes, with almost death-like feeling, to be imprin- 
ted on the heart : — we are to meet and see him — 
our child, our brother no more ! 

My dear friends, I can mingle my tears with yours, 
and feel that it is right they should be shed 5 — he 
was our friend, endowed with many excellent qual- 
ities and snatched unexpectedly away ! His loss to 
you in this world is irreparable, and our hearts are 
filled with sorrow. Let us for awhile indulge it. 
The uses of grief are to soften our hearts, wean us 
from the world and fit us for Heaven ; — by exer- 
cising the better feelings of our nature it has a 
strong tendency to promote that benevolence essen- 
tial to the christian character: — to expand our 
hearts — subdue our tempers and render us meet for 
the society of those who dwell where hatred, envy 
and want of charity never come. 

In the midst of our anguish it is well to remem- 
ber that the providences of God are here, and that, 
although in our limited extent of knowledge the 
reasons of his purposes are hidden from our view, 
yet they are all directed in mercy, and take place 
only for our good. Let us hope then for the best, 
that he will comfort and sustain those whom he af- 
flicts, and that if we live with submission to his 
will, he will unite the mourners and the mourned 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 59 

— remove their sorrows — make them partakers of 
his kingdom and its joys forever. Accept^ my dear 
friends, my sincere sympathies for the loss you have 
sustained and my earnest wishes for your welfare." 

His esteemed friend Mrs. Williams* furnished 
the following account of the closing scene. 

" Indianapolis, August 17, 1836. 

"MY BELOVED FRIENDS — Mr. AND Mrs. WlL- 

liams : — Ere this letter reaches you, you will have 
heard through Mr. B the melancholy and heart- 
rending intelligence of the death of our beloved 
John — yes ! my friends, it is but too certain he has 
been taken from us. You have lost an own beloved 
child — we, one by adoption; why this is, we dare 
not ask, but must in humble submission bow to the 
Divine will. Inscrutable are God's waj^s — past 
finding out. His footsteps are often in deep waters. 
Nevertheless, I may without sinning mourn his loss 
and sympathize deeply — most deeply with you, his 
parents, brothers and sisters in this most afflictive 
dispensation of his providence, that has bereft you 
of a son and brother and such an one as was John 

* The respected individual, except by reputation, a stranger to 
the subject as well as to the writer of this biography, will know 
how to estimate the motives which have induced this public in- 
sertion : their origin and existence being intimately sssociated 
with sentiments of gratitude and high regard; and should these 
simple " Reminiscences " ever meet her eye, will forgive the 
liberty I have taken. 



60 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

— who, that knew him, did not love and esteem him? 

— as was fully proved by the devoted and unremit- 
ted attention he received during his illness. Uni- 
formly mild — exemplary in deportment — always 
when in town to he seen at churehf and the prayer 
meeting, untirins^in the business in which he was 

O ' o at 

engaged, in which he was making rapid advance- 
ment and in which he bid fair to excel — ever ready 
to oblige and accommodate — is it surprising that 
he should have won the esteem of all who knew 
him ? — But all this could not avert the shafts of 
death — the hour had come when the Lord had 
chosen to take him, I trust to himself, where, I pray 
we may all be prepared to follow. Two days pre- 
vious to his death, I had some serious conversation 
with him, and read to him a small Tract entitled 
<c Friendly Conversation," and shortly after our 
minister came in and also conversed with him; we 
however then considered him in no danger, and in- 
deed supposed that he was recovering. His health 
for some time past had been remarkably good, — no 
one had a more florid and healthy appearance, or 
bid fairer for long life than he — but truly "in the 
midst of life, we are in death." It was our misfor- 
tune to be absent when he was first attacked. I 
had accompanied my husband to a neighboring 
town, about seventy miles distant, and in our return 

t For some time previous to his last illness,, he walked into 
town from Camp, a distance of ten or twelve miles, every Sat- 
urday evening, to attend church with them on the Sabbath. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 61 

last Saturday night week, we found to our surpris 6 
and grief oar dear John in our room confined on a 
bed of sickness, and where he had been since the 
previous Tuesday — he appeared overjoyed to see 
us and said, "now 1 feel easy." 

He continued quite ill for several days, during 
which time he was frequently delirious and fancied 
two of his brothers were with him. His two phy- 
sicians assured us on Tuesday, Wednesday and 
Thursday, that he was better — and the latter day, 
my husband, under that belief and being compelled, 
reluctantly left us — but oh ! — how little did he 
think he was parting with him, never again to be- 
hold him in this world ! His absence of course ad- 
ded to my affliction, notwithstanding we had con- 
stantly with us many kind and devoted friends. On 
Friday we considered him still better, ond that night 
after ten o'clock, when about to retire to my room, 
I remarked that I felt happy in the belief that he 
would soon be able to be about again ; but alas ! 
how short-lived were all my hopes ! At about two 
o'clock he began to grow worse — soon became in- 
sensible, in which state he continued until his death, 
which occurred at nine o'clock, Saturday evening, 
13th August. 

On the morning of that day, (Saturday,) I called 
iu a third physician, and let me assure you, my af- 
flicted friends that every thing was done by them to 
save your precious child, but all in vain. God had 

ordered otherwise. I rejoice to know that you, his 

4 



62 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

parents, sisters, and perhaps brothers can yield with 
pious resignation to the Divine will, and will be en- 
abled to say, "It is the Lord, let him do what seem- 
eth him good. The Lord gave and the Lord hath 
taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord." 

Sabbath, P. M., at 3 o'clock, his remains were ta- 
ken to the Church where was delivered to the lar- 
gest assemblage of persons, ever k?nvn on such an oc- 
casion, in this place, a funeral sermon from the text 
— " Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy 
youth " — &c, by Rev. Mr. S., of New York, fol- 
lowed by an affecting and appropriate exhortation 
from our own minister. The Lord was invoked in 
behalf of you and your dear family, that the " oil 
of divine consolation might be poured into your 
bleeding hearts." After the solemn services, a long, 
and I may truly say a mourning train followed his 
remains to the silent grave ! His death occurred 
just at the close of a series of the most solemn meet- 
ings that have ever been continued here. The Lord 
who has always a wise design in xohat He does, 
doubtless, has taken him from us at this time, to 
deepen impressions already made on the minds of 
many, especially the young, and to arrest the atten- 
tion of others previously unconcerned. I trust it may 
prove effectual in quickening me, your unworthy, 
negligent friend, and in saving souls. During his 
illness, in his lucid moments, when he heard us 
speaking of the revival, he inquired anxiously if 
any of the young men were seriously impressed. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 63 

[ am sometimes so sinful as to wish him back that I 
might do more for him. Oh! how hard it is to re- 
alize that we shall see him no more on earth. May 
we all be prepared to meet him, in another and bet- 
ter world. 

The day before Mr. Williams left as, he brought 
a letter to John from the office, I would not then 
suffer him to read it, but on Friday, when we all 
supposed him so much better he asked for it. I gave 
it to him with the promise that he would read but 
little; he however was un willing to give it up until 
he had read an entire page — the remainder was 
never read. 

You were all often the theme of our conversa- 
tions ; I feel acquainted with you all, and am now 
more than ever anxious to sec you. Why cannot 
some one or more of the family visit us ? Nothing, 
I assure you, would now afford us such pleasure. 

I enclose you a small lock of his hair — the re- 
mainder that was cut off, except what I retain for 
myself, shall be put into his trunk together with his 
clothes and forwarded to you the earliest opportu- 
nity.* A new suit was brought from the tailor's 
only a few days before his death. I have written 
from the impulse of my feelings and scarcely know 
what. Were my husband here, he would join me 

* Among his papers was found a lock of his own hair, neat- 
ly braided by his own hand, and folded carefully, with the date 
of the time — " Oct. 9 — 1833 " — his birth-day anniversary. 

5 



()i MEMOIR OF MRS. SAYVYEK. 

in love to you and family. I ask your prayers. 
The Lord be with us all. 

Your sincere and sympathizing friend, 

S. C. Williams." 

As remarked by his esteemed friend who was near 
him in his expiring moments — the Lord, who has 
always some wise design in the various operations 
of his providence, obviously, removed him from 
them at that critical time, a striking demonstration 
of the vanity of earthly pursuits, in order to deep- 
en those impressions made on the minds of many, 
especially the young, and to arrest the attention of 
others unconcerned about their eternal state, ab- 
sorbed by present interests and present enjoyments. 
And the effect produced on the minds of many of 
John's young friends, at the time of his death, prov- 
ed not like the morning cloud and early dew: a 
number of them, soon after, united with the church, 
and continued to adorn their profession by consis- 
tent lives. The melancholy event will be long re- 
membered, and spoken of with deep feeling. His 
death was spiritual life to many souls. A simple 
inscription marks the spot where he lies : 
"Sacred to the Memory of John Howard Williams, who 
died Aug. 13, 1836. J£t eighteen years." 

MAY MANY PLANTS OF PARADISE THERE BLOOM. 

Unlike those plants in Eden's verdant bow'r, 
The blossoms round tky grave, by sovereign power, 
Flourish perrenial. Springing from thy tomb, 
Waving and brightening in htmwrial bloom. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 65 

Ah ! what has earth in all its countless stores 
Of hoarded wealth, drawn from the treasured mine 
And ocean's bed — can brightly burnished gold 
Purchase the gem divine, the te pearl " of price untold 1 

To Mrs. S. C. Williams, Indianapolis, Ind. 
Occasioned by the death of a brother. 
* * * " How ignorant are we of fu- 
turity ! How imperfectly can we read its pages ! 
Although from Scripture and observation we are 
continually admonished of the uncertainty of human 
life, its brief period of duration and the innumera- 
ble variety of causes which operate to hasten us all 
to the grave, yet we scarcely realize our frailty, our 
subjection to death. We frequently look forward 
to bright anticipations of bliss, in the possession of 
beloved friends, and flatter ourselves that our lives 
may, with theirs, be prolonged many years, but thus 
suddenly are our fond hopes blighted ! Even be- 
fore they emerge from the bud, they waste, wither 
and decay, leaving us to desolation and loneliness ! 
How false are earthly hopes ! On what tottering 
foundations are their superstructures erected — 
crumbling into ashes, even before they are comple- 
ted, and in remembrance only adding poignancy to 
our regrets. 

When we reflect upon our thoughtlessness, we 
acknowledge the fallacy of earthly hopes directed 
by an infinitely wise God. He notices our prone- 
ness to lean on earth for dependence, and thus He 



66 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

disappoints, to teach us to regard Him as our sup- 
port, our only certain portion. 

The last letter we received from our dear broth- 
er John was dated 5th July — he gave us, at that 
time, a brief description of his future prospects, his 
location at Indianapolis, and expectations of resid- 
ing there for the present. His letters have always 
breathed content and enjoyment — not a single term 
of depression or discontent. He always spoke of 
you with much affection. 

Dear brother ! — it would have been an allevia- 
tion of my grief to have attended on him during his 
last days on earth — to have seen performed the last 
mournful tribute to his memory and to have shed 
tears over his lonely grave — but the tears of stran- 
gers bedew it, while 1 am not permitted this last 
consolation. The turf will cover it with its waving 
foliage, and the pale monument meet the passer-by 
— but my footsteps cannot stray to that little green 
hillock which covers his cold remains, to ease my 
bursting heart. 55 * * # * # * 

In days gone by, she indulged and expressed an 
indefinite idea of visiting the West at some future 
period. Looking down however, as she did, through 
the vale of coming years, the prospect before her 
was exceedingly vague and indistinct ; but when in 
the providence of God, one of their number, one 
so intimately associated by bonds of sympathy and 
affection had left the house held band for other 
scenes, and had really become a resident there. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 67 

where her thoughts had often wandered, her hopes 
revived 5 — -she conjectured she read in this event 
the fulfilment of her long cherished wishes. But 
this chimera of fancy, this vision of the imagina- 
tion was about to be dispelled — "a change had 
come o'er the spirit of her dream." 

She was undoubtedly sincere in declaring to her 
brother there; in one of her last letters, her resolu- 
tion to the contrary^ and in asserting what she did 
in reference to this, namely, that " delightful as it 
was to explore new scenes and prospects^ and how 
much soever pleasure it might afford -her to visit 
liim when Ire should be established there, yet she 
was not pleased with the obstacles to be surmount- 
ed in frequenting those regions, and had not the 
most distant idea of ever realizing such an enter- 
prise."" Her last letter to that brother found him 
«on a sick and dying bed 1 Cold dews were distill- 
ing upon his brow, quenching the radiant eye, and 
"sealing its living lustre in the dim shadow of a 
dreamless night. The remainder was never read. 

She told the true meaning of her heart, for she 
was then anticipating another relationship, a con- 
nexion which should fix her new abode in her " child- 
hood's home." Intellectual and mental dispositions, 
together with the benign influence of religion, con- 
firmed the sympathies of a friendship which she 
vainly imagined was about to be consecrated by the 

most sacred and enduring of all earthly bonds 

but another year and a few weeks fled away 



68 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

and he, too, had gone — was gone forever ! Nature 
smiled in loveliness, the light diffused around a mel- 
low radiance — gentle breezes played among the 
rustling leaves, and the rich and varied hues of Au- 
tumn painted the landscape with indescribable beau- 
ty — but his slumbering clay was as unconscious as 
the heavy clod on his bosom. 

Her implicit trust in an all-wise providence ap- 
peared in this scene of unlooked for affliction. Her 
composure and tranquil resignation, in this season 
of sorrow, were the peculiar results of a mind sus- 
tained by a living energy — a power superior to any 
merely natural quality. The following note was 
enclosed in a letter to his mother during his illness 
— -" Dear Mrs. F — God, our Father mingles mer- 
cy in our cup of affliction — when we first met, we 
mourned over H — as an impenitent sinner, when 
we separated we rejoiced in his reconciliation to 
Christ What anguish is spared us, that while he 
thus languishes, whether he lives or dies, he has the 
consolations of the gospel —he can passively sub- 
mit himself into the hands of God, and enjoy bless- 
ed communion with him. Let us pray earnestly 
for the blessing of God upon him, and that we may 
be submissive to his will. It may yet be his good 
providence to raise him up again — perhaps God is 
thus trying our confidence in Him. 

Farewell — Harriet." 

Describing his death, under date of October 5th, 
she closes as follows^ — " I never witnessed so 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 69 

solemn a sceee, but Gsd sustained me in this hour 
of sad bereavement, of crushed hopes and hollow 
disappointment. Yesterday, the funeral took place, 
attended by Mr. Long. Monday morn, five of 
us went to the grave-yard and selected the most 
pleasant spot we could find for his interment. 

As it regards myself, I am perfectly resigned — 
my will is entirely swallowed up in God's will. 
He afflicts not willingly but for wise purposes — 
his determinations are just, and though mysterious, 
1 trust that I can acquiesce in them. I am greatly 
consoled and sustained. It is a heavy bereavement 
and one I shall ever feel, but Heaven will have an- 
other attraction. It is a little more than a year 
since our dear John died ; — who will be summoned 
next we know not. * * * * * " 

From the grave of her friend she returned home, 
breathing the language of devout and humble ac- 
quiescence — "not my will, but thine be done." 

"WE ALL DO FADE AS A LEAF.'— Isaiah 64,6. 

Written by her in 1838, and published in the Portland Transcript. 

Before me waves the virid green, 
Decked with a garb of varied mien, 
And happy flowers are laughing seen. 

Ah ! now the music of the breeze 
Has caused to sport their merry leaves, 
They catch the dew-drop as it grieves — 

And well it weeps — for see they fade — 



^0 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



One after one is lowly laid, 
Withered and dead down in the glade. 

So is it on Life's changing scene — 
Cloudless and sweet is youth's young dream, 
But Time soon pales its lively mein. 

For a few hours of transient bliss, 

Are days of darkness and distress, 

Here in this lone, lone wilderness. 

And when hope seeks an upward flight, 
'Tis nipped by disappointment's blight, 
And shackled fast by sorrow's night. 

Wrapped in the mantle of the dead, 
Friend after friend is swiftly laid, 
Down in the dark and fearful shade. 

But is there nought to cheer the tomb, 

To chase away its awful gloom, 

When mem'ry mourns their sad, sad doom 1 

Altho' on earth how brief their stay, 
Yet Faith imparts a joyous ray — 
And lifts the veil of coming day. 

Yet shall we live, yes, tho' we die — 

Live, far above this stormy sky, 

In realms of peace and bliss on high. 

Yes, die on earth to live in heathen, 
Where rest and love and joy are given, 
And friend from friend no more is riven. 

Then, welcome death ! A day so bright, 

The natal day of endless light 

Is brought to our enraptur'd sight I 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 71 

Endowed by nature with a vivid imagination and 
glowing fancy, of temperament originally suscep- 
tible, and rendered more so by delicate health, in 
youth, particularly, she was subject to great ex- 
tremes of feeling, but intellectual discipline,- habits 
of self-control and fixed religious principles exerted 
their beneficial effects. And cc the heart that beat 
high with expectation, feeling that earth was matur- 
ing " flowers that might be gathered , had found 
them, y ere they emerged from the bud, fading, with- 
ering, and decaying, or consumed b} r corroding: 
blight, yielding only dust and ashes, and vanishing 
at the touch in empty air. But while the chasten- 
ing hand of providence, subdued the high tone of 
her spirit, sovereign grace preserved her from sink- 
ing into hopeless despondency, and at a time when 
every earthly refuge seemed withdrawn and her 
harp was turned into mourning, her voiee suddenly 
responded — "the Lord is my light and my salva- 
tion ! The Lord is the strength of my Fife ! — for 
in the time of trouble he will hide me in his pavil- 
ion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; 
he shall set me upon a rock." 

Her own pen simply illustrates this idea. The 
reader may readily recognize the sentiment so fe- 
licitously embodied by the gifted author of " The 
Invocation " — " Answer me burning stars of night, 
where is the spirit flown ? " An expression of the 
same thought was very apparently suggested by 
events before alluded to. It is thus. 



72 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

Oh ! Sun with gorgeous beams of light, 
Illume my dark'ned sight, 

Tell me by graven pathway bright 
The passing spirit's flight : — 

One brief stay here — she swiftly flies: — 

The vase in crumbling ruin lies ! 

On pinions light as angels rise, 
Reft from the weeping here, 

She sought the visions of the skies, 
Unshackled by a fear. 

Her Saviour — God she leaned upon — 

Her rock, her fortress and her home. 

Cold Moon, with mild and gentle ray, 
How kindly dost thou bend 

To mark the home-bound pilgrim's way, 
As glowing hopes ascend — 

Can your pure, errless, constant light 

Discern the spirit's trackless flight % 

Swift on the wings ot hasty thought, 
Marked by a heav'nly ray, 

The land of kindred souls she sought, 
Celestial, endless day: 

Where rest from sin and free from care, 

Majestic love is radiant there. 

An age of time doth point thy course, 
Thou Star of glittering light, 

Ere to the earth thy traveling beam 
Has reached our narrow sight — 

Say, dost thou bound the spirit's way, 

Or cross her track with quiet ray % 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWtER. 73 

'Tis the Omniscient eye alone 

That guides the spirits deathless breath, 
Can upward lead etherial mould, 

And quench the power of sin and death. 
The sainted spirit's notes now blend 
With seraph's hymn, to God her Friend. 

Transcribed from her private memoranda, direc- 
ted, to her sister Mrs. D. F W. then in Milford^ 
Mass,, under date of May, — 1889. 
***** " Consumption seems to 
ravage our country, nearly all the deaths in our 
vicinity seem to be of that description. One after 
another of us is seized by this invidious disease 
and hurried into a premature grave. It is impor- 
tant that we have our lamps trimmed and exhibiting 
the resplendent, burning lustre of a christian exam- 
ple, for in such an hour as we little expect, we may 
be summoned hence. 

I am glad you had not forgotten the Rose-bush. 
This little emblem of purity and frailty is all you 
can rear as a tribute of affection to his memory. I 
hope your sister's health will improve as warm 
weather returns. And as her day of probation is 
lengthened out to her, may she not fail to lift her 
heart to God, to that God who has been so merciful 
to her only brother. Can she refuse to love that God 
who preserved him when in sickness and danger, 
and brought him home safely to die with a glorious 
hope of immortality ? This is sufficient to awaken 
her gratitude, and may she not forget daily to raise 



74 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

her thoughts to heaven where he securely rests y 
even though it be no more than the brief prayer ■— 
cc God be merciful to me, a sinner. 5 ' This is my 
request, and if HL could spealt, Ac" would 1 urge it 
with angel eloquence. I feel a deep interest in. her r 
and long to hear that she is possessed of the com- 
forts of religion. Your mother has bee n ¥ deeply af- 
flicted — but her ties arc weakened, and when call- 
ed to die, she will rejoice that he has gone before 1 
her. 

May 27. — Mr, Allen preached from John 19 :: 
30. " It is finished.." Same text ail day — Dwelt 
particularly on the Redemption purchased by Christ. 
Mrs. P. is quite ill and has sent for me to watch 
with her to night. I shall go — -I feel anxious to do 
what I can, knowing I may need the assistance of 
others soon to help me. While we Hve, let us praise 
God, and improve every opportunity to benefit per- 
ishing souls. And now dear sister I> — once more, 
I wish you good night ; — may you enjoy yourself 
until we are permitted to meet again, which I hope 
will be before long. Your affectionate sister, 
Harriet Newell Williams."" 

To the same, who was an own sister of her de- 
ceased friend. 

" Summer will soon be past. The Autumn will 

forcibly remind us of the sad interment of , 

Yet why need 1 render myself and you melancholy 
by thinking of his dying agonies ? — they are all 



MEMOm W MRS. SAWYER, 75 

past and forgotten by him -=~ he is drinking of the 
fount, eternal blessedness in heaven. Let us so re- 
flect on our own latter end, that we may be prepar- 
ed to sustain the last conflict, and welcome him in 
the regions of glory. 

I frequently think of the conversations we had 
together, the last winter he lived, about another 
world, its state and employments. The reality has 
passed his vision— Jam yet left in the obscurity of 
darkness. Earth has lost its charms to me — I fear 
to anticipate happiness lest another disappointment 
await me. 

August 19. Dear Friends:— Last August, at 
this time, we were together, but now all three are 
widely separated. He to whose wants we adminis- 
tered no longer claims our attention — he is beyond 
-our poor sympathies and will never need our friendly 
caid again. But does lie feel regret when he thinks 
oi the past 2 Does he wish to return to live with 
.us a fewy^ears on earth, to renew his pains and en- 
dure another struggle with death ? No ! — if he 
could weep in heaven, he would mourn that we still 
live here to suffer pain and vexation. Undoubtedly, 
the recollection that we sought to bring him, a lost 
wanderer, to God, causes him to swell the notes of 
praise that, before many years, we shall rejoin him. 
He died a christian — we ought not to repine that 
his stay on earth was brief." 

But that friendship, which looks beyond the pres- 
ent evanescent scene, needs no memorial to perpet- 



76 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



uate its existence. It will live when every record 
has been blotted from the pages of time. But it may 
afford some slight gratification, to those individuals 
who have requested it, to find in connexion rem- 
iniscences of those who have gone to their early 
reward. Their names will be forgotten on earth. 
But they are written in Heaven. 

In my sister's journal, there is notice of the de- 
cease of one, who for many years of her early life 
lived in the same neighborhood, from this circum- 
stance, probably, the families of the deceased be- 
come intimately acquainted. The young lady was 
a relative and inmate of the family of Mr. B. of 
Dorchester, (Mass.,) where she died. In the sum- 
mer of 1833, Mr. and Mrs. B. visited France and 
England; and Elizabeth passed the summer in K. 
her native place. Towards the close of the autumn 
she returned to Dorchester, that she might be there 
to receive the absent ones and welcome them home. 
But while friends were daily and anxiously expec- 
ting their arrival, by the steamship, intelligence 
came alike unexpected and distressing. It was the 
death of Mrs. B. in London, Dec. 13. Soon after the 
heavy tidings reached them, Elizabeth was seized 
with a fatal fever, which terminated her existence 
Dec. 31 : after an illness of about ten days. The 
subjoined is an extract, from the journal above men- 
tioned. 

Oh, dark'ning besom of the mandate death J 
How hast thou swept athwart the *un of life ! 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 77 

* # # # # 

She too has passed away — the cherished one — 
As yonder, brilliant cloud, that flits with eager 
Haste, and melts itself in the wide welkin. 

As yon dark cloud is wafted long, 

And floats about the azure sky, 
It scatters far the gold-lit throng, 

To wield its dusky banner high. 
A sombre shadow hovers near — 
Shuts out the light, and all is drear ! 

Deep, solemn season ! swiftly speed, 

Thy melancholy wheels roll on, 
Haste, haste and bring the looked for meed 

Of spring's renewal — glorious morn — 
When desolate, bereaved, forlorn, 
Creation's beauties &esh put on. 

Ah \ lingerer, why this loitering gait! 

Thy stay recals the heart-gushed tear, 
Re-grieves the reft and desolate, 

By bringing lost, loved objects near — 
The dear departed, pale and lone — 
.Buried beneath the cold grave-stone ! 

^There Is something so remarkable in the spirit 
aud genius of the gospel, that it is not to be under- 
stood by any force of speculation or investigation." 
Originality, depth and comprehensiveness of intel- 
lect are not so much concerned as humility and sin- 
gleness of heart, and whatever definition has been 
.given of religion, "©one can be more accurately 

descriptive than this, that it is such a belief of the bi- 

3 



78 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWY&&* 



hie as maintains a living influence upon the heart." 
The ingenuity of man may devise a theory^ beauti- 
ful in external appearance, but like a fair specimen 
of marble sculpture, as cold> inert aild spiritless, if 
it fail to recognize the re-animating influences of 
the divine Spirit or the only Mediator between God 
and man* The vital efficacy of the gospel has been 
fully tested in circumstances of affliction, — its sus- 
taining power fully realized in the near prospect of 
eternity and the hour of death. In connexion with 
these thoughts, with the subject of this memoir, and 
as a memento of the departed, I recur briefly to the 
last moments of her lamented cousin, Miss Mary 
Louisa Williams who died in Portland in the sum- 
mer of 1839 — called at an early age to part with 
earth and all its charms, a period of life when the 
future seems nothing but sunshine and the imagina- 
tion is filled with bright visions of happiness. In 
the early part of the summer she sent a message to 
her cousin, conveying the intention of a visit to K. 
with the hope that a few week's residence in the 
country might effect the complete restoration of her 
amended health. Knowing the deceptive nature of 
that insidious malady which had fastened upon her, 
and convinced that there was no possible hope of 
her recovery, she wrote to her in reply to this com- 
munication — urged what affection would suggest in 
such a case, bidding her an affectionate farevyeij 
and hoping to meet her in heaven. In a wasting 
decline, she lingered from week to week on the 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 79 

brink of the grave. She had become so exceeding- 
ly emaciated, that her immediate friends around 
her, beheld with surprise for several weeks the fee- 
ble flame of dissolving nature, as it alternately shone 
and disappeared, till, at last, it rose, like the " blaze 
of a spent taper," and was seen no more ! 

The last several weeks of this protracted illness 
were occupied in examining the foundation of her 
eternal hopes — this process of self-inquiry resulted 
in her implicit reliance upon the mercy of God 
through the Redeemer, and joyful acknowledgment 
of the plan of salvation. The powers of natural 
life were nearly exhausted, yet grace triumphed and 
displayed its complete victory over the last enemy. 

The following, from a letter to the writer gives 
some account of this death-bed scene. "When 
brother J — came into her chamber, at about half 
past eight in the evening, she called him to her and 
said very distinctly — " J — love your Saviour " — 
he could make no reply, but burst into tears and 
left the room. At about half past ten in the even- 
ing we thought her dead — her eves were closed — 
no pulse was perceptible and we thought it had 
ceased to beat forever — father was removing the 
pillows from under her head — death seemed in 
very deed to have laid his icy hand upon our hearts 
— when suddenly she opened her eyes and express- 
ed astonishment to find herself, on earth again — 
adding " I have more to do yet — God sent me back 

to talk a little longer — my work is not yet finished." 

4 



SO MEMOIR Of MRS. SAWYER. 



— she then sung for about ten minutes — it was not 
her natural voice, but something sweet and unearth- 
ly — all the words we could distinguish were these, 
6i I am singing my way to heaven; " — suddenly she 
ceased singing — raised her hands to her eyes, soon 
dropped them again aild said, (as though the light 
of the upper heaven had beamed upon her soul) 

— she said — * "I saw a gate open — I saw hosts — 
I saw God and Gatherine 3 (alluding to her sister 
who died a short time previous.) She then inquir- 
ed what time it was day-light, being told i: about 
four " — "No " — 'said she " J think not, at Jive it 
is day-light — at that time I shall go to Heaven, and 
not before." Mr* M — and all the family, during 
the night, were in the chamber of death. M — 
was deeply affected, and a very affecting scene 
it was,, her taking leave of us ail one by one. Two 
hours before she died she called brother to her 
and said (f don't forget what I told you." She called 
M. to her bed-side and put on his finger a ring 
while she said. " M — this is a pledge of our friend- 
ship — keep, it for my sake " — urging him to seek 
religion — to love the Saviour. 

But it is useless for me to undertake to write all 
she said — she was talking all night long — had her 
reason perfectly to the last — her heart fluttering 
violently and her mouth very much parched. When 
it was proposed to wether lips a little, she declined, 
saying, " I only long to be gone." She counted the 
clock, herself, every time it struck, and every half 



jMEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 81 

hour she wouid ask the exact time — " for I long for 
the time to come." When the clock struck jive, she 
expressed a wish for me to extinguish the candle 
and open the blinds—- after that was done, she call- 
ed us all around her, gave us all her last farewell, 
and peacefully sunk to rest. * * * 

**»'*» Adieu — Ellen." 

The sufferer, after so long a struggle with pain 
and disease, was at length set free, to mingle her 
notes of praise, where "jubilee is rung with the 
concord of seraphic voices." The funeral was sol- 
emnized by Dr. Nichols, minister of the First 
Church to which congregation her parents belonged ; 
and her remains were deposited in the tomb, follow- 
ed by a numerous train of mourning friends. 

The substance of the brief sketch, extracted as 
above, was afterwards abundantly corroborated by 
indisputable evidence. It is allowed, by those pres- 
ent during the night preceding her death, to be but 
a faint and imperfect description of the reality. A 
distinguished, orthodox clergyman, of enlarged 
christian experience, fully acquainted with all the 
circumstances of her death, declared it to be a re- 
markable one. He affirmed, that in the whole course 
of his ministry, no such instance of extraordinary 
triumph in death had occurred within his observa- 
tion. Emaciated almost to a skeleton, it seemed 
evident that from week to week and from day to 
day, her span of probation was lengthened out, that 

6 



82 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



she might magnify the exceeding riches of omnipo- 
tent grace, and illustrate the mercy, love and faith- 
fulness of Him 3 who was about to add another gem 
to his diadem of praise. It is through the instru- 
mentality of certain established agencies^ that the 
divine purposes ordinarily received their accom- 
plishment* Isolated are those cases in the dispen- 
sations of his grace and love, where God comes out 
in undisguised power, without the intervention of 
his appointed means;, and asserts his mighty Sover- 
eignty. Her case in this respect was not singular. 
The ''tract distributor " who visited her during the 
last three weeks of her life was a true disciple of 
Him who, while onearth "went about doing good.' 3 
A stranger to the family, but hearing of the sinking 
condition of a beloved one of their number, she 
called, and requested the privilege of an interview, 
which was granted. Her affectionate interest and 
kindness of manner won the heart of the dying- 
Louisa, and from that hour to the last, she enjoyed 
her full and uninterrupted confidence ; — hour af- 
ter hour, and day after day found her by her bed- 
side, imparting sympathy, instruction, consolation, 
and directing her mind to its proper origin, the on- 
ly sure foundation of hope. Previously to her in- 
troduction to the stranger, the subject of death had 
not been presented to her consideration, excepting 
the letter above alluded to, written by the subject 
and the writer of this memoir. From motives of 
kindness better understood than explained, her par- 



MEMOIR OT MRS. SAW YES, 



«nts judged it advisable to maintain silence there. 
She was a sweet singer on earth ; now she sings a 
louder and sweeter song with the angel-choh\ 

STANZAS — written in 1839. 

Beyond the reach of mortal's shrouded sight, 
Are fairer skies of ever gushing light, 

Where sultry heat, with desolating breath, 
Comes not to lift around its languid wing ; 
Nor yet doth frost, with fleecy whiteness, fling 

Its quivering dampness or its palsying breath. 

There virid pastures, 'mid refreshing shade, 
Perennial bloom; — along the blissful glade, 

The bursting streamlets from the " living fount " 
Meand'ring flow, the smiling brink to lave. 
As quiet mists the distant petals bathe, 

While hung Avith changeless hue is Zion's Mount. 

Her streets are gokl, translucent to the sight — 
Her portals pearl, of pure, enrapturing light — 

Incense of praise the freighted breezes bear — 
As sweetest songs poured forth with mellow note A 
By angel-choirs, through distant regions float 

To God, our Father, throned supremely there. 

Not mem'ries past can lift a transient sigh 
O'er earthly visions that entranced the eye, 

Though budding hopes were smitten, rent and fled ; 
For the bright promise left surviving love 
Will re-unite them in the bliss above, 

When 'neath the turf the mortal form is laid ! 

Sins pardoned all — the sainted friend now rests 
Securely quiet on the Saviour's breast — 



84 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

Crowned with high honors in the court*above — 
While tireless nature humbly seeks to ken 
God's mystic workings with the sons of men, 

And ever glows with rapt, seraphic love. 

In May, 1840, the subject of this Memoir was 
married to Dr. F. W. Sawyer, of Huntington, In- 
diana, and left her father's house for her distant 
home. 

The following letter is descriptive of her journey 

— so replete with incident that it can find a parallel 
only amid the varied scenes of her eventful life, 
discovering energy, firmness and self-possession, 
traits peculiarly characteristic of herself, in strange 
contrast with that delicacy, refinement and sensibil- 
ity w T hich were the distinguishing elements of her 
nature. 

"Huntington, Ind., May 26, 1840. 
My dear Mother and Sister. — Having arriv- 
ed at the termination of my journey, you are de- 
sirous of possessing a minute detail of the events 
which have transpired during the intervening weeks 
of my departure from K until my introduction at 
Huntington. You have fully realized that on the 
morning of the 6th May, (preceeding a violent 
storm,) I bade adieu to the scenes of my childhood 

— the home of many tender, endearing recollec- 
tions, ^together with the beloved circle of kindred 
who had enclosed themselves about my heart by 
years of associated interests, and commenced my 



MEMOIR OF MRS* SAWYER. $5 



long anticipated route, in a south-west direction of 
upwards of twelve hundred miles. 

Fortunately, at the onset we obtained an easy 
conveyance, and continued to secure one, until our 
arrival at Kingston, the distance of forty -six miles 
— this very means rendered us more successful than 
the sfog-e-passengers, who were detained on the way 
to repair some damages, and consequently did not 
arrive seasonably to possess themselves of a passage 
in the car, which left almost immediately on reach- 
ing them. At about seven o'clock the city of Bos- 
ton w T as in prospect, and a carriage conveyed us to 
Pemberton House. * *■*.*'* 

* * * * # Friday, P. M., we 

took the rail way, passed through Worcester to 
Norwich, and at eight o'clock was on board the 
steam-boat for the American metropolis, 160 miles 
in advance, which pass was soon accomplished. 
Thence we embarked on the Hudson for Albany, 
164 miles distant, in the steam-boat Swallow, so de- 
signated for its surprising speed. From Albany by 
the cars, we proceeded to Schenectady, Utica and 
Syracuse. Monday, we left Syracuse in a canal- 
packet-boat for Oswego, passed Salina where salt is 
manufactured abundantly. 

But I will tell Albert and dear little J. Howard, 
what diverted me more than any thing was the oft- 
repeated ascension of the news-man, on the arched 
canopy of the ladies' cabin, winding his crooked, 
deformed and sable-worn trumpet, to apprize ap- 



86 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

proaching lock-tenders, passengers or baggage wait - 
ers of ^our approximity, that unnecessary delays 
might be avoided. 

At Oswego we were on the borders of Lake On- 
tario, there we immediately took passage in the 
steam-boat for Lewiston, 150 miles, which place we 
reached in 1 twenty four hours. Ten miles distant 
is Niagara — the way travelled, parti ally by horses, 
jand steam on iron rails. 

J was forcibly struck with the peculiar appear- 
ance of the waters, before our arriving at the cata- 
ract,. The river was wild and hasty in its course, 
of a deep green hue, mingled with a snow-white 
foam -—this, with the surrounding scenery and Falls 
in anticipation, excited more novelty in my mind 
than the grand view itself. We rambled about the 
waters for several hours, and feasted our imagina- 
tions with its sublime sceneries. But there was one 
wonder to me which J could not subdue or even 
solve, how a bridge coujd be constructed, no very 
great distance above the rapids, (where the current 
is so deep, rough and fright|u^J swift,) which af- 
fords a safe carriage to Goat or Iris Island. After 
dopositing the requisite toll, we .crossed the river, 
wandered nearly round the island, which separates 
th3 Falls, collected some- wild-flowers and visited 
the museum, where were articles for exhibition and 
sale, rude canes, mocassins, and many kinds of In- 
dian manufacture; a cabinet of minerals and the ex- 
ternal appearance of two very large eagles, oaea 



MfiMoiit m Mas. $AVf?m. §f 



the roving occupants of the wild regions of Niaga- 
ra. We also visited the Stone Tower* that w# 
might have a near and more extensive view of the' 
bold prospects encircling us. We did not descend 
the ladder beneath to penetrate the mists* or exam-' 
ine the lofty precipice over which this immense 1 
body of water plunged with its awful dash* This 4 
prospect would have afforded us a far more noble 
and correct view of these sublime heights and the 
immense chasms beneath, but the projecting banks 
in many places looked dangerous, as they were hol- 
lowed from beneath (frequently) by the torrent tide, 
and I concluded it better not venture to satisfy a cu- 
riosity which might have a fatal termination. 

At about three o'clock, we left Niagara for Buf- 
falo, 22 miles. This distance was performed on the 
rail-road. Took tea and breakfasted at Buffalo 
and then left in the steamer, United States, for Tol- 
edo — 360 miles. Lake Erie was very cairn — 
scarcely a breeze to ruffle its surface. Our passage 
was exceedingly delightful, The boat was large 
and amply adapted to the convenience of passen~ 
gers. We stopped at Erie in Pennsylvania about 
one hour. After discharging all the passengers at 
their respective ports we arrived at Toledo, Friday 
morning 15th May, where we hoped to find a pack- 
et boat to convey us to Perrysburg, ten miles farther, 
but none was in waiting, so we employed a stage , 
none other than a large wooden cart and rode to 
f* Maumee City ** in grand style. I could not for- 



SS MEMOIiR OF MftS. SAWYER. 

bear smiling at our rude conveyance, though I suf- 
fered very much, owing to the extreme roughness 
of the oft scarcely discernible road, and its ill adap- 
tedness to my feeble frame. Found now, by visi- 
ble manifestations, that w r e had arrived at the noted 
c far-west,'- famed for its "fevers and agues." 
The lady of the Hotel and one of her sons were 
then suffering from its effects. The Maumee House, 
being directly opposite Fort Meigs, where Gen. 
Harrison obtained his memorable victory over the 
Indians., &c, we had an opportunity of witnessing 
the zeal of some of his partizans in the erection of 
a log-cabin, A log from -each town in the county 
was to.be deposited on the Fort, which was deci- 
ded for the contemplated lodging. On Saturday, I 
frequently heard the shoutings of the multitude. 
The proceedings, as well as the assemblage, could 
be distinctly seen from my window — one log, I saw 
descending the stream — upon it was attached a 
white flag which fluttered in the breeze, and the 
people saluted it with boisterous glee, and though 
the course appeared simple for men of understand- 
ing, yet I participated with no little delight in their 
empty acclamations. Sabbath I attended a Metho- 
dist Church in Ohio, with very thin congregation. 
We never could have had a more delightful and 
fortunate journey, than w T e experienced until our 
landing at Toledo — weather mild — no heavy 
storms on the lakes or accident of any kind on the 
route— escaped all stage and sea sickness like- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. §"9 

wise j and was rapidly hastening to a resting place.- 
The stage company agreed to convey us to Ft- 
Wayne in two days* the distance being one-hundred 
miles. We, having paid twelve dollars in advance., 
left Monday morning for Defiance, fifty miles be- 
yond: — but you have had doleful descriptions of 
Maumee and listened to the recital of one who had 
realized its miseries, but 1 can assure him, 1 fre- 
quently envied his safe, easy, and ready boot-con- 
veyance along its high- ways and bye-ways. 1 can 
merely recount simply and briefly my troubles, 
though I was not discouraged, or felt any regret 
that I had undertaken to encounter its difficulties. 

And — to commence — the western stages are not 
so easy as our east might imagine. They are un- 
covered, rough, huge and discoloured (except with 
dust and mud) oak carts — very much resembling 
our ugliest ox-carts; into one of these " carriages," 
so termed, passengers and baggage are mingled to- 
gether. The roads were much more dangerous and 
tedious than a month previous, owing to continued 
heavy rains, and the overflowings of the river. It 
was excessively warm, and we reached Defiance in 
the morning at two o'clock, after a painful and per- 
ilous ride. 

The next day, (Tuesday,) we had a cart from 
that town to prosecute the remainder of the journey, 
but we were more incommoded than by the pre- 
ceding one, as the centre and solitary seat (except 
what accommodations the trunks afforded) was- 



90 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

loose, and myself with another lady from Vermont 
was jostled about in every direction. In this man- 
ner we proceeded up heights, then through ravines 
intercepted by branches or trunks of trees, over 
rails which were adjusted to render the way passa- 
ble, till arrived in the depths of a forest, the axle- 
tree snapped asunder and there we remained, until 
by means of branches and withes we could continue 
our progress — but not far had we proceeded, be- 
fore the underboards of the stage were tending 
backward, threatening to launch us unawares among 
the shrubbery. This evil being in some degree rem- 
edied, we slowly passed, followed by the rays of the 
burning sun and continued thumps from the sides 
of the awkward carriage, leaving many strokes of 
its virulence upon me. But I was not disheartened, 
but the more desirous of pushing for the destined 
termination, realizing that every turn of the wheel 
exhausted the number to be repeated. Near the 
close of the afternoon, on the ascent of a hill, the 
horses quite exhausted, commenced a downward 
course until we reached the declivity, where we had 
barely time to escape, when the stage, horses, &c, 
passed over a small bridge into a hollow and there 
lodged our chattels. We walked to New-Rochester, 
about one mile, where we remained that night, the 
distance being only fourteen miles from Defiance* 
The hotels we met with were not the most exern- 
plarily arranged, but charges were not the less di- 
minished on that account. *.*■*■.■* 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 91 



Wednesday, after necessary repairs and addition- 
al straw and horses we left quite cheerful, hoping 
for better success than the preceding day. But the 
farther we progressed, the worse conditioned were 
the roads, until after ploughing through about one 
mile of mire, the back-wheels bur.st apart and lodg- 
ed our carriage in a mud-hole, where we were 
obliged to remain to decide on the best and easiest 
mode of extricating ourselves. At length, by the 
aid of a pair of men's boots, the assistance of my 
husband's arms and temporary rails, I found myself 
back to my starting place. A cart drawn by oxen 
attracted my attention, with our worn and almost 
distracted baggage — some of their number become 
so dilapidated as scarcely to be able to proceed.- 
Both fasts to the locked trunks were broken, al- 
though one was strongly secured by a rope before 
we left K. My frail basket was deprived of one 
support after another, then the handle made its ex- 
it, and last of all, it accidentally took refuge on the 
banks of the Maumee, dispirited, crushed and well 
nigh abandoned to desperation. Iron boxes, bones 
and sinews would not be too strong to pass Maumee 
roads. 

As our last resort we fled to a perogue on Thurs- 
day noon — lodged during the night in a log-cabin, 
with a huge fire -place. 

In the morning, (Friday,) had a couch of straw 
*o rest upon in the bottom of the boat, as a violent 
pain in my head and face made me unable to sit ; 



92 MEMOIB OF MBS. 8AWYBB. 

the sun's rays being powerful, my husband made a 
shade from the umbrella to screen us : — about 
noon, six or seven miles from a covert, a shower of 
rain overtook us, succeeded by another still more 
violent than the former, and it continued to rain, 
until evening in no moderate degree, keeping us in 
a wet, uncomfortable state. 

But to hasten to the close — we arrived at Ft, 
Wayne, Friday night ; — 25 miles on the canal soon 
brought us to Huntington which we reached to our 
joy. 

But let not what I have written discourage any of 
you from emigrating to this productive country, 
where provisions are abundant and cheap, for all 
roads are bad early in the season, and such heavy 
rains were never realized in so short a period be- 
fore — for one month's continuance it had poured 
almost incessantly — and we, also, have an advan- 
tage which you do not possess, we can travel the 
Maumee, very easily, leisurely and pleasantly, and 
not long hence the canal will be completed, and then 
all the way from Maine will be exceedingly delight- 
ful — I am boarding at Judge M'Clelland's — the 
town looks more populous than I expected. Am 
much better contented than I anticipated — think if 
I am not ill, I shall be very happy this summer ; 
never, for one moment, have regretted my coming. 
Every thing looks flourishing. 

To Mrs. D. F. W.— My husband has gone nine 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 93 

miles to visit a very sick child. The family to 
which he has gone, belong to a sect, called Dunkers. 
That class of false religionists prevail in the west 
to a considerable extent, and have recently held a 
protracted meeting, nine miles from this place. I 
am unacquainted with their peculiar tenets. In ex- 
ternal appearance they differ from the generality of 
other sects, by preserving their beards entire. It is 
now past ten o'clock, and as I understood there was 
to be a meeting in the Court House at eleven this 
morning, I habited myself to attend, but can discov- 
er no movements whatever to that import, conse- 
quently have laid aside my bonnet and seated my- 
self to commune a few moments with you . The 
weather is very warm, and if I attempt to read, I al- 
most involuntarily fall asleep, a difficulty which has 
attended me since my arrival here ; — I have com- 
menced taking medicine as a tonic. 

How is Mr. C. prospering ? If he could labor 
here, in this town, what good he might do ! We 
have not been destitute of preaching this summer. 
I was somewhat pleased with the novelty of the 
building and situation, in which it has been com- 
mon to hold public worship. Surrounded by woods 
stands a log tenement, constructed for a school- 
room, with seats contracted in breadth, and a large 
opening through which you might view the state of 
the sky — near the entrance was a large stump, 
whose roots remained yet undermined. But this old 
building is rendered useless, now. by the recent erec- 

21 



94 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

tion of a new school house, and meetings are now 
held in the Court House, nearly opposite, and this 
will be commodious and pleasant. Very few are 
in the habit of attending church — catholics do not 
go at alL It is usual to read Jour hymns and as 
books are rare, after the first reading, each succeed- 
ing couplet is repeated previous to being sung. 
This is done by the minister or chief chorister. 
The singing is not of the first order. They do not 
pass time in selecting a tune or pitching the key, but 
one commences without hesitancy. The exhorta- 
tions are scriptural and very good., A Methodist 
missionary preaches once a fortnight. I went last 
week, and thought him superior in point of talent. 
Mr. Lewis holds meetings on the Sabbath, commen- 
cing at eleven o'clock* As the preachers require no 
salary, but offer their services gratuitously, we have 
every reason to be grateful to them. One advan- 
tage attending our meetings which does not exist in 
K. is, that were you a resident of Huntington, you 
need not remain at home, watching and tending 
your babe, but would just fasten about her cap and 
take her with you — a plan which certainly ought 
to be approved, as mothers are under the necessity 
of being much at home, and a great part of their 
time deprived of the means of grace. J. Howard,, 
I suspect is a fine boy at church, and does not dis- 
turb the congregation. O ! I should love to seethe 
sweet children. If little J. was near by, he would 
be so much company, for I am often hoi$r»and hours 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER-. 95 



alone without seeing any one. As yet I am conten- 
ted for I can find enough to employ my mind, i 
feel more and more the uncertainty of human life ? 
its brevity and our nearness to the grave. But it 
is comparatively of small consequence whether I 
live few or many years, if when the summer ends 
I am prepared ; if heaven is the object of our de- 
sires, let us not cling to earth — it will be only a 
short period any of us remain here. Oh ! let us 
secure to ourselves an inheritance where nothing 
perisheth. So far, it has been very healthy here 
this summer — August and September are the most 
sickly months. I avoid the evening air. The 
nights of this climate are very damp which contrast 
greatly with the heat of noon." 

To the same, under date of 

"Huntington, Sept 8, 1840. 
My dear Brother and Sister: — You can form 
no adequate conceptions of the emotions with which 
I receive a letter from home, especially after remain- 
ing more than two months in silence. As much as 
I desire, I fear to become acquainted with the con- 
tents, lest some unfortunate accident, unforeseen 
calamity or premature death has surprised some 
whom I love, and involved others in distress. But 
I was happy to find on perusal of your letter, that 
all were in the possession of usual health, and while 
many others from K. have fallen victims to the 
ocean or an unhealthy clime, once more, even again , 



96 BIEMOIB OF MBS. 6AWYER. 

oflt repeated, my dear brothers have escaped the 
dangers of the sea, and are permitted to embrace 
home. 

When I last wrote I contemplated a visit to Fort 
Wayne. The road is impassable by carriages to 
the city, consequently, traveling is performed on the 
canal, a mode I dislike. I was somewhat struck 
with the peculiar appearance of the noted Wayne, 
so prominent in the east. It is a flourishing place 
for one so recently come into consideration. Log- 
cabins are interspersed with frame and brick buil- 
dings. Many wealthy people still inhabit very rude 
dwellings. On the fourth of July, three Sabbath 
Schools were collected and addressed in English 
and Dutch, also hymns were sung in each language, 
many blue and white banners were prepared for the 
occasion, on which were texts of Scripture, &c. A 
collation was ready immediately after the services. 
Most of the emigrants in Wayne are from Holland 
and Germany. Sabbath day heard Mr. R. a very 
good man. His salary is but two hundred dollars. 
I reached home the following Thursday. 

The northern part of Indiana is nearly, if not 
quite, a wilderness. Huntington county is but re- 
cently settled. The town of Huntington, being the 
seat of justice, is more populous than any other — ■ 
the village itself is not very extensive, but there are 
many farms under improvement at the distance of 
one, two, three and four miles. There are three 
stores and one grocery in the village, new school- 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER- 97 

house, two hotels and catholic meeting house. One 
mile from Us, there are mills and the chiefs brick 
store. The jail is built of solid double logs — six 
inches between filled with flint stones. At present 
there is but one inmate, and he suffering confinement 
for theft. He has made an unsuccessful attempt to 
escape, by separating with a small knife-saw, eight 
iron bars, the partings he filled with clay, until the 
number were completed. He was however over- 
heard at his work and thus defeated in his plans. 

Richlieu, chief of the Miami tribe just called 
here. The chief is a stout, athletic man, with a high 
forehead, blue eyes and regular features — does not 
wear the Indian costume, but habits himself after 
our fashion; he converses in the Indian, French and 
English languages. He will not dispose of his lands 
except at an extravagant price, and is too sharp to 
become the dupe of the white man's artifices. The 
tribe squander their annuity with great prodigality. 
They are very indolent and very intemperate. 

I was a little disconcerted one day by the call of 
three Indians — they were social and delighted with 
several articles I showed them. Gaudily attired 
and mounted on their ponies, with bells attached to 
their necks — -they feel merry and rich enough, if 
they are satisfied with their favorite whiskey. 

In this State, when a new county is organized, 
the avails of certain lands and town lots go to pur- 
chase a library, and subscribers may have access to 
it, by paying one dollar n year. My husband lias, 



98 MEMOIR OP MRS, 6AWYER. 

been appointed librarian, and we have the books in 
our house which afford a variety of reading. A 
number of families have removed here this sum- 
mer and the prospects are improving. V/ild ani- 
mals do not venture within sight of the inhabitants. 
Wolves are heard to howl, more especially in win- 
ter. A few miles from us where dwellings are most- 
ly ill the thicket, they frequently prowl around — 
one woman, here on a visit, mentioned that about 
thirty hungry wolves stationed themselves a short 
distance from her lodging one night, and she, her- 
self, was very much alarmed. Huntington has been 
very healthy this season — agues prevail considera- 
bly, but there have been no cases of death for a long 
time. 

The canal is near us, consequently, we see the 
boats passing and repassing. My love to all. Trust- 
ing we shall again meet in this life, if not, that we 
may unite hereafter, no more to be separated, I re- 
main your affectionate sister 3 Harriet." 

To Mrs. S. W. Campbell.—" Nov. 22. Again 
has the Sabbath returned but no church-going bell 
invites me to the house of God. The immortal soul 
is to all appearances but of little consequence, while 
this world with its perishing objects engrosses the 
whole attention and absorbs the mind. Sometimes, 
I think the case of men, in this region, almost des- 
perate, yet I know great and surprising effects have 
attended the faithful exhibition of gospel truth, in a 



MEMOIR OF AIRS. SAWYEJR. 99 



short period of time. A few christians may, if they 
perform their duty, do much ; here it would be very 
difficult to undertake much. The circumstances of 
society are such, it would be hard to discover a ju- 
dicious course. A combined body of respectable 
and influential individuals might, by prudence, per- 
severence and the blessing of God, change the as- 
pect of society ; so great a variety as Irish, Dutch, 
French, English, with their national prejudices in- 
terwoven with their different religious creeds. Cath- 
olics are not so numerous as formerly. I have at- 
tended one funeral, — the deceased was an Irish 
Catholic by birth, though his pretensions to piety 
were none at all. No priest attended the ceremony 
— the catholic brethren crossed themselves at the 
grave. Here it is customary for the survivors to 
linger in the grave-ground, until the remains are 
entirely covered and the mound completed. 

There are here a few Camphellites, New-Lights, 
&c. The Sabbath in the West is much desecrated; 
trades are transacted ; labor, it is true, is generally 
suspended, but the Sabbath is regarded by most as a 
day of recreation. Hunting and intemperance are 
common. To-day, more especially, has been a day 
of confusion and tumult, as the Indians are collect- 
ed from all quarters to receive their annuities. 
Whiskey is their favorite beverage — there is a gro- 
cery opposite here to which many have resorted to- 
day, and as the sale of the intoxicating draught 
was a grief to me, when reported in our town, for- 



100 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

merly, how much deeper my feelings of regret wit- 
nessing it thus vended on the Lord's holy day. For 
three months we have had no religious meetings. 

* * * * Before I came here I heard much 
said of the hastening on of the latter-day glory — 
of the rapid advance of the Millenium. We are 
confident that " all things are possible with God, 5> 
and that he will fulfil, as speedily as he has deter- 
mined, but to me, the general extension and diffusion 
of the gospel in these ends of the earth, at present 
appears quite remote. 

The moral state of society I have attempted im- 
perfectly to describe. Oh f when will this wilder- 
ness become as the garden of the Lord — this desert 
rejoice and blossom as the rose ? ** 

To Mrs. S. W. C. — " My Dear Sister. * 
* * * * * Tuesday a Mctho*- 
dist minister came 35 miles to fulfil an appointment 
to preach in the evening. The several ministers be- 
longing to that circuit are to supply Huntington 
with a lecture once a fortnight. Mr. mention- 
ed that they propose soon to organize a society, and 
wish all christians who would promote the cause of 
piety to exert their influence. I do not know their 
precise Articles of Faith, but according to my pres- 
ent belief could not consistently coincide with some 
of those with which I am acquainted. No one of 
any other denomination preaches in town. For one 
thing they deserve commendation, and that is, their 



MEMOIR OP MRS. 8AWYEH. 101 

zeal and indefatigable exertions to reform men, 
I wish some faithful Missionary could he sent into 
these wilds; our country will be ruined unless chris- 
tians make more strenuous efforts for the suppres- 
sion of infidelity and vice. There never has been 
any church whatever organized here. I know of 
only one Presbyterian professor of religion in town 
— there are several Methodist church members, 
only one marly whom I have seen, who calls himself 
a christian. J. So you will not wonder if there never 
has been any Sabbath-School in operation ; I have 
suggested its importance, by introducing the subject 
several times — many think that prejudices would 
be so strong against the institution that it would bo 
in vain to attempt one at present. 

The subject of my own exertions and feelings is 
too delicate to expatiate widely upon. But I have 
not that enjoyment in religion, which it is a chris- 
tian's privilege to possess; — we all need sympathy 
and encouragement to assist us in our progress to- 
ward Heaven. Some think I am a rigid Yankee, 
and rather stiff in my religious views. I have de- 
stributed some Tracts where I thought they would 
be favorably received — one girl would not accept 
them, —said they were of no value. She was about 
twelve years old, and as books were high and scarce, 
I thought a little story would be gratifying. But to 
my surprise she rejected it with disdain. The habits 
-of tho irreligious have a tendency to produce an ob- 
duracy of conscience; riding and visiting upon the 



102 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

Sabbath, together with unnecessary calls, I declaim 
against ; but surrounded by every untoward influ- 
ence, I feel that a christian unless God preserve 
him, would ruin his immortal interests. 

Life appears more uncertain to me than ever — 
fevers are more common and fatal here than in K. 
The inland air of low regions contrast greatly with 
the sea breezes on the coast, or the invigorating at- 
mosphere of your JVLountain State* 

Many miles now divide us, but the time is hasten- 
ing forward, when, if we are the children of God, 
we shall meet to part no more forever. " 

" November 30, 1840. 
My dear Mother and Sister; — This morn- 
ing brought me intelligence from home, conveyed 
by your long and interesting letter. # *. • I cer- 
tainly fully realise the need of sympathizing friends 
— some one with whom I can converse and confide. 
If I had one or two of my former acquaintance 
with whom I could hold christian intercourse, I 
should be happier. Mr. M'C. called here about 
two weeks since. He urged us to come to Ft. W. 
and pass thanksgiving, as he intended to invite his 
eastern, particular friends. (I saw no proclama- 
tion and it is very little noticed or observed when 
issued,) However it is so late in the season I 
ehould not now undertake a journey so far on 
horseback. Traveling is very laborious in this part 
of the country — women will go hundreds of miles 



MEMOIB OF MRS, SAWYEB. 103 



to visit their friends and not appear fatigued at all. 
You would b8 surprised to see how many expose 
themselves ; no wonder at all, agues are prevalent, 
Youjwould all in K. have the incessant shakes from 
autumn till summer, if you were obliged to lodge 
in the shanties in which many do. But society is 
gradually improving, and the prospect for the erec- 
tion of buildings advancing, 

Tuesday, Dec. 1. — For a fortnight past the an- 
nual payment of the Miami tribe has been anticipa- 
ted which has filled the two taverns here to over- 
flowing. Merchants from abroad and others who 
have claims on the Indians, are ready to have their 
demands investigated and receive their due. To- 
day the assembly is formed about two miles from 
here, and they are, individually 3 receiving their an- 
nuities. One hundred thousand dollars, in solid 
coin, is delivered to them. The tribe have dimin- 
ished to between five and six hundred. Many are 
indebted the whole amount, and white people in 
these parts, have enriched themselves by their cre- 
dulity. Goods, in large quantities are brought and 
deposited for sale and the Indians can incur debt to 
any amount, as the creditors are secure on the com- 
ing investigation. Some men have in their posses- 
sion, for previous debts, eight or ten thousand dol- 
lars in solid silver. A treaty has now been made 
to purchase their lands entirely, and a proposal for 
them to leave soon for beyond the Mississippi, 
which by the advice of their Chief, I understand 



104 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER, 



they have agreed to accept, but the time specified 
for their departure I have not yet ascertained. 
There remains very little hope of their improvement; 
their habits are so roving they will not conform to 
civilized life or perform any useful labor. 

A child has lately been discovered by his parents, 
who was lost in the woods about five years since - y 
a party of Indians had him in their possession and 
he had, from education, become in personal appear- 
ance as one of them. 

Wednesday, P. M. y Bee. 2. — I could relate an 
anecdote of recent occurrence which will serve to 
establish the influence of education and its superior- 
ity to birth and native character. The Miami tribe, 
during hostilities, stole from a family in New York 
State, a white child and brought her to this region 
of country. She became completely initiated in 
their habits, and was attached to them by marriage, 
as time passed on. Her dialect was theirs, and be- 
ing deprived of all acquaintance with her nation, 
the associations were broken, and she realized no 
tie of consanguinity to unite her to the family and 
kindred she originally possessed. Last summer, 
two brothers came on, purposely to endeavor to 
persuade her to leave the Indians and return with 
them ; but all arguments were powerless — she re- 
sisted, pertinaciously, their entreaties, and they> 
baffled in their attempts, returned home unsuccess- 
ful. They stopped in Huntington on their way home. 
You enquire how I occupy my time, and if I am 



MEMOIR OF MRS, SAWYER. 105 



not lonely. I find enough to keep me employed. 
I am often interrupted by calls — lonely sometimes, 
languid at heart, as day after day brings no old ac- 
quaintance to view — but on the whole, as conten- 
ted and happy, as any one of my disposition and 
taste could be in such a situation. Give my love to 
Miss E. C, but tell her the danger in the west to 
her personally, culling wild flowers, would far ex- 
ceed the pleasure derived from botanic research. 
If she should encounter a racer, eight or ten feet in 
extent, she would wish she had never seen a burga- 
mot, orchis, lupin or peep-robin; her exit from the 
forest, I fear, would not be surpassed by the fright- 
ed deer ! I went a number of times into the 
w T oods, but concluded, at last, it best not to venture 
farther — the bite of the rattle-snake, at some seas- 
ons of the year, is very venomous . 

Not long since, Mary and myself went a little 
distance to a place where the hickory-nuts, (our 
walnuts) were so very abundant that one might 
gather them by bushels — we w r ere returning - — my 
husband had come out to meet us ; a moment or so 
before he perceived us, a wolf crossed our path 
before him, and disappeared into the woods ! 1 
should have been alarmed if I had encountered him , 

My letters are penned in so hurried a manner 
they will not bear criticising, but you and mother 
would not like a formal address, without particular- 
izing any of my affairs, though they might fail to 
interest a stranger. Wishing you every blessing, 



106 MEMOIE OF MRS. SAWYER. 

-- - - mn i 

end hoping we may meet again let us endeavor to 
be cheerful and happy and trust in the Lord . 

Affectionately — Harriet ." 

To Capt. C. W. New-Orleans, La. 

" Huntington, Dec. 11, 1940. 

Very dear brother C . — Your letter dated 23d 
Nov. safely arrived last evening, much to my hap- 
piness to hear that you and your dear family were 
in health, but the intelligence respecting our belov- 
ed mother's illness added to my former uneasiness 
concerning her. 1 was fearful she would have an- 
other attack of alarming disease on the return of 
cold weather, her constitution is so impaired; but 
I do hope she may recover her strength, so as to be 
comfortable, and possess her usual health, and that 
I may live once more to see her. I was also griev- 
ed to hear of your embarkation which was soon ex- 
pected. Though I cannot enjoy your society I feel 
very unwilling to have you deprived of the pleas- 
ures, advantages and comforts of home and pious 
friends . It is true you will carry as companions a 
number of your acquaintances, but you cannot ex- 
perience that congeniality of feeling that you other- 
wise would, were they christians. You have been 
much favored in regard to health, good voyages and 
safe returns, and may Providence continue to pro- 
tect you from tho destructive tempests and devour- 
ing floods. 

I should like to see the children ; 1 begin to be 



MEMOIB OF MRS. SAWYER. 107 

apprehensive I should not hear dear little J . "knock* 
ing " on the outside of the door for admittance as 
he promised me. Poor child ! he little realized 
that he must travel many hundreds of miles before 
he could arrive at Aunt Harriet's humble dwelling, 
We have had no sleighing yet — have had one 
snow-storm about the sixth Dec. but it has all left 
us. The ground is now covered by a heavy frost 
and the air is rather chilly, though not so cold as in 
Maine. I wish I could have passed thanksgiving 
with you ; it is not observed in this State except by 
a few — I saw no preparations or heard any proc- 
lamation, and was not apprized of the day in seas- 
on to make any arrangements . I trust the time will 
come when I shall visit you ; if I have my life pro- 
longed, with health adequate to the undertaking, I 
hope to go home before many years . It will take 
me a long while to become familiarized to the west, 
and I never can feel that attachment for Indiana 
which unites me to New-England. There all my 
friends and dear connexions reside, except my hus- 
band who is now very dear to me, and I wish cir- 
cumstances had been such that we had not removed 
so far distant, but I endeavor to be contented as he 
is partial to the west , The productions will be very 
abundant in this part of the country, when farmers 
have their lands in full cultivation. Clearing the 
ground for tillage is rather laborious at present — 
every year, however, brings new emigrants to set- 
tie around us. Lands in the outskirts of H. are 



108 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

much more reduced in price, than those sold within 
compass of the town. 

This year the country has been generally healthy 
— more so than usual. The prevailing diseases 
are ague, bilious and remitting fevers — type gen- 
erally mild — seldom lasting not more than a week. 

My health is not very good — I attribute it to my 
not being accustomed to the climate . I hope, after 
I have been a resident here a year, (if permitted to 
live until then) it will improve* Let us endeavor 
to be in readiness for the approach of death. May 
its summons not cause us to fear. If God is our 
friend and Christ has undertaken to be our Almigh- 
ty Saviour, we can triumph in omnipotent aid. Ob- 
servation assures us that our stay on earth is brief, 
and very soon at longest, we must pass into another 
state of existence. We know there are unspeaka- 
ble joys reserved for the righteous ; let us so live 
and perform our various duties, that we may unite 
with the holy assembly of redeemed saints and 
adoring angels — there to possess our Father's and 
Saviour's smile and rejoice unitedly in affection for- 
ever. Some of those we loved here are already 
eujoying rich possessions — if they could express 
their feelings, they would urge us to holy obedience, 
unwavering faith, constant watchfulness and perse- 
verance . 

The western country has done very little for the 
promulgation of the gospel in her own borders. 
Darkness envelopes the minds of her inhabitants, 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 109 

in regard to spiritual knowledge : — the accumulation 
of property is the aim of existence. Intemperance 
is a very common vice. Most all drink moderate- 
ly. No temperance society has been formed in our 
vicinity. And with respect to the sale and use of 
intoxicating beverages, this section is about on a 
footing, with what, from all accounts, our town 
was thirty years ago. The Sabbath is not honored 
by most. When there is a religious meeting, very 
few, proportionally, attend. But society will im- 
prove, undoubtedly, as the inhabitants become more 
condensed. May you have a prosperous voyage. 

Saturday, Bee. 12. A rainy, damp day. No ca- 
nal boats pass now, as the ice is frozen to such a 
degree, it would be impossible to make easy pro- 
gress. I hope the canal will be finished in two 
years — it will then extend to lake Erie and make 
an easy passage for you to visit me. I shall always 
love you, and hope at some future time, we may be 
so favored as to be neighbors. It is very unpleas- 
ant to be situated among strangers, especially 
among those whose habits and sympathies are very 
unlike . Most emigrants are foreign, though Ohio 
and Pennsylvania furnish no small share in the back 
woods. As my husband wishes to write I must 
leave a place for him to occupy. 

Saturday eve. — eight o'clock. — If I had not Mary 
I should be entirely alone — as it is, I do not like to 
be left thus — passing travelers occasionally call, 
but the Indians are very peaceable — they seldom 



110 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

enter a dwelling. But they are in the habit of fre- 
quenting a grocery opposite to supply themselves 
with whiskey, consequently, in the day or evening 
I, occasionally, hear an unintelligible "hoop 57 from 
them. The education of children has been much 
neglected, A new school house has been comple- 
ted recently, and a teacher has commenced with 
nearly thirty scholars. I wish the school might be 
encouraged, for it is exceedingly bad for the mor- 
als of children, to have them, while incompetent 
for service, ransacking the woods and stroking about 
in erery direction. But I must close — good night . 
From yam affectionate sister, H. ,? 

It has been- observed, that a view of the promi- 
nent incidents of ray sister's early life and subset 
quent character, would be incomplete without the 
addition of her communications from the west. It 
may be so. But whether or not there be justice iis 
this remark, I have been to some degree actuated 
by its influence. These miscellaneous sketches, ex- 
tracted from her private correspondence, are suffi- 
ciently general in their character and application, 
and the concluding letter contains a familiar refer- 
ence to her domestic situation. It is addressed to 
her parents, brothers, and sisters, under date of 

"Huntington, March 12, 1841. 
The seventh of March favored me with a detail 
of much interesting intelligence from home ; as fk 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYEft. Ill 

was the first written communication since the date 
of Nov'r, I hailed it with emotions of mingled sen- 
sation,, particularly as I had experienced no little 
anxiety about my mother's frequent indisposition 
and recent severe attack of disease ; my feelings, 
however, were tranquilized to ascertain her im- 
provement in health, and observe her own hand- 
writing on the envelope, &c. I now embrace the 
iirst leisure moments to answer the various inqui- 
ries of its contents, and to give a slight descrip- 
tion of my own little affairs, as well as some oc- 
currence, transpiring in the vicinity, which may not 
fail to interest, as the passing events of the busy 
world, twelve hundred miles from your own domi- 
cii. 

Winter has passed very rapidly to me. This part 
ef the State has been visited with but little severe 
cold weather protracted to much length of time. 
Mercury has sunk as low as fourteen below zero. 
Very little snow has fallen ; its greatest depth not 
exceeding four inches, which rendered sleighing 
precarious, and a few days after its descent quite 
impossible, unless succeeded by an additional sup- 
ply. The greatest quantity of snow, at one pe- 
riod this season, has fallen this week ; previous 
to this, for several days, the bland air wafted the 
carols of the robins and other sweet birds, which 
associated in my mind many tender recollections 
of past joys and regrets, and awakened cheer- 
ing hopes of the enlivening prospects of a return- 



112 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

ing spring. Most families here are illy provided 
with vehicles suitable for traveling over the ice and 
snow. More from novelty than real comfort, I 
have enjoyed several excursions in one of these 
rude cutters. I could not forbear smiling at our 
traveling equipage, and thought that my mother and 
you all (could you witness our style) would criti- 
cize us as we passed with as much justice, and pos- 
sess as little command of your risibles, as when we 
beheld the retrenchment carriage , (a visible illustra- 
tion of economy, recommending the saving system !) 
rolling down the street by the prudent lecturer's 
guiding hand . Something resembling a box, uncov- 
ered, is fastened on wooden slides, frequently over- 
cast with iron to cause a more easy passage. On 
one occasion we were furnished with a rope for a 
bridle. But as no support sustains the back, except 
a few inches of board above, I could not sustain 
much of a journey. 

The families which were expected from Ohio, 
have emigrated, consisting of twenty-one individ- 
uals, including children* Most of the heads of 
these families are members of a Baptist church, and 
some of them are very good singers, consequently, 
I hope they will exert a beneficial effect upon .soci- 
ety here. By subscription, a Methodist minister is 
provided by their circuit, every Sabbath alternately; 
but it is customary here to hold but one religious 
service during the day, usually commencing at elev- 
en. We, also, have preaching sometimes on week 






MEMOIR OP MRS. SAWYER. 113 

Last Wednesday there was one in the 
other part of this house. * * # * 

About forty miles more of the Wabash and Erie 
canal will be suitable for navigation this spring. If 
I had delayed my western tour until the present 
time, my laborious journey in traversing the Mau- 
mee, would have been much mitigated. How speed- 
ily the remaining sixty miles will be completed is 
uncertain, probably in one or two years. If my life 
and health be preserved, and no untoward event in- 
tervene, I trust to visit home — but every thing on 
earth is attended with great uncertainty. Innova- 
tions of brief joys and sad events are the concomi- 
itant allotments of mankind. If Providence so or- 
ders it that we meet no more below, let us patiently 
acquiesce in a righteous disposal, and so effectually 
secure an inheritance above, that we may unite to 
separate no more in a heaven of bliss. Next Sab- 
bath we shall have Mr. L. to preach, and at six he 
has made an appointment in an apartment of this 
house. My health is about as usual. 

I have but little leisure, as my domestic concerns 
require a large share of my time. Every day brings 
its positive duties, imperious in their requisition — 
many interruptions prevent despatch, consequently, 
I cannot compose myself to as much solitude and 
sequestration as you imagine. My poor canary's 
song has ceased ! He would have beguiled many 
a lonely hour, could I have had him with me, but 
he caused you a " heap " of trouble ! 



114 MEMOIR OF MRS; SAWttR, 



The land, about which you make your inquiries^ 
is among the portions I mentioned* One quarter 
of a section is situated on Eel fiver* in Huntington 
county, ten miles from us— -settlements have com- 
menced in that vicinity. But much labor is neces- 
sary to render the almost impenetrable forests of the 
West) suited for tillage^ however productive the soil 
may be, On this land there is a very solid growth 
of timber — oak, black-walnut, &c», grass five or six 
feet high, but it would be difficult to reach it 5 owing 
to the deep forests. It is also expensive clearing 
land in this country. I frequently think if all these 
lands of trees were near you, what a market they 
would bring 5 ship building would advance rapidly. 
The land of Indiana is surveyed into sections, and 
measured into lots of an equal number of acres. 
These are numbered, and to those who are acquaint- 
ed, it is not difficult to determine their exact situa- 
tion. 

A few years will make a great alteration in the 
state of the country ; **— at present to a superficial 
observer H. presents nothing inviting. The agri- 
culturists will, by persevering industry, possess very 
desirable farms, and those at the East who are har- 
dy would do much better to emigrate, than to toil 
early and late to improve an impoverished or rather 
naturally unfruitful soil. 

My husband sends love and regards to you all. 
Give my love to all my friends, uncles, aunts, &c. 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 115 

I am fearful Miss will never recover her health* 

I grieve for her as she appears to be an isolated being. 
1 am glad M. A. C. is better. The loss of health 
has been very distressing to her. 1 did intend to 

write Emmeline H \ not a night passes, but I am 

conversing with my old friends . I always direct my 
attention homeward to make observations. Respects 
to Mr. and Mrs. C. May my Father's and Mother's 
lives be preserved many years, their strength re- 
newed, and happiness increased. 
Your affectionate 

Harriet N. Sawyer." 

The annexed quotation is from a letter to a young 
brother, at that time in New-Orleans ; urging upon 
his attention the importance and advantages of re- 
ligion, she says: — u I often feel very anxious about 
you, knowing you are exposed to Death in so many 
and various ways, and dangers are so thickly about 
you; may you be prepared to die; but you never will, 
unless you are a Christian, unless you regard relig- 
ion ; pray to God and restrain the evil of your heart 
— then you can smile, though lying on a dying bed 
far from friends and home, — yes ! you can smile, 
though about to be swallowed by the ocean, for you 
will know that a happy eternity awaits you." This, 
which was written while she lived in the home of her 
youth, seemed to a certain degree prophetical of the 
scene which should follow, when just lingering upon 
the shores of time, she looked her last farewell and 

4 



116 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 



exchanged earth for heaven : — (i That smile," writes 
one, describing her death, "remained on her coun- 
tenance all day, she seemed only sleeping." 

The preceding, under date of March 12th, was 
the last letter ever received from her. She had com- 
menced another, but the hand of death intervened. 

The following intelligence of her death was com- 
municated by her husband, Dr. F. W. Sawyer, to 
Rev. G. W. Campbell : 

"Huntington, JuneQQ, 1841. 

Cc 'My Dear Brother and Sister: — You cannot 
murmur at the dispensations of Providence, although 
it ma}^ pain your pious hearts, when you reflect why 
the most lovely things on earth soonest fade away ! 
God has taken from my side all that was valuable 
to me on earth, and all that gave me any satisfaction 
in living. My heart was fixed upon one object, and 
one I thought I had a right to love. But at the mo- 
ment anticipated happiness arrived, unseen calami- 
ties swept from time to unknown realms, all my joys, 
hopes and prospects. Dear Harriet is no more /" 

After mentioning some particulars he further 
adds: — " Our dear lost one had no desire to live. 
She loved God fervently, and He was pleased to re- 
move the sting of death. She could see no terror 
in the grave; she retained her mental faculties in full 
and perfect possession to the very last moment, and 
no mortal eye ever saw a more resigned Christian. 
She spoke of all her friends, all her brothers and 



MEMOtft OF MRS. SAWY&fi. Hf 

sisters — she loved Henry— "Tell S." she said 
" not to mourn for Harriet, she has only gone home.' 5 
She conversed with us all on the subjects of religion 
and death, for hours previous to her death, with a 
beautiful smile on her countenance) and one moment 
before her death embraced me with a smile. My 
affections had increased ten-fold, and now what must 
my feelings be ? 

My dear brother and sister, I cannot write more. 
I have written to her dear father and mother* I 
should be happy to write more at this time, but my 
hand trembles, and my brain is confused „ There- 
fore I bid you farewell, and ask your prayers and 
friendship as long as I remain, 

"Your afflicted brother, F. W> S." 

" Write me some consolation*'* 

Her last illness commenced on Friday, June 11* 
Ignorant of her situation and unexpected by any, a 
friend arrived from a neighboring city — one origi* 
nally belonging to her native place in New-England, 
-and who had taken her departure for her western 
residence, only a few months previous to her own 
removal. She was overjoyed to see her, observing 
€hat "kind Providence had sent her." For a day 
or two after, no apprehensions of immediate danger 
were excited, and her friends encouraged the hope 
of recovery. 

The Sabbath succeeding, June IS, her infant 
daughter died. When her husband carried to her 



118 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER* 

the lifeless infant, she said, without emotion, — •" it 
is well — -the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken? 
and blessed be his name !" — ■ then fixing her eyes 
upon it, she looked one long, last farewell, and 
remarked to him that it would be "a little re- 
sort for them to go and sit by its grave, evenings. 53 
She then supposed she might recover. Towards 
evening, as the friend before alluded to was watch- 
ing by her pillow, she turned to her, asking her 
to lay her face beside hers, and began to speak about 
dying — with gratitude she spoke of her numerous 
friends there — their kind and assiduous attentions, 
requesting her to write to her relatives at home, 
when she should hear of her death. 

Tuesday morning she appeared better, and her 
friend, Mrs. , took leave of her, with the prom- 
ise of returning again in two weeks. During the 
day she began to fail rapidly; her pulse indicated 
remarkable debility, and her respiration, suddenly 
became laborious. At about two o^clock, P. M., she 
requested those present to leave the room, and thus 
addressed her husband — " although I do not suffer 
pain, except my breathing, yet this oppression at my 
lungs will be the cause of death." Seeing his emo- 
tion, she continued, — " death has no terror to me, 
if it were not for you, my clear parents, brothers and 
sisters, I should long to go and be with Christ. She 
then took him by the hand and said, — " do not weep 
so — I must leave you some day, or you me, and if 
we are prepared to go in peace, it matters not how 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 119 

soon — the longer we live, the stronger our attach- 
ment will be — the more ties we shall have to bind 
us to earth, and although it may pain your heart at 
first, it will soon wear away." With regard to the 
child she expressed satisfaction, adding that "though 
she could not enjoy it here, she could in the world 
of bliss." She exhorted him in the strongest lan- 
guage to prepare to meet his God. She then said 
— " acquaint my father with my death in a soothing 
manner — "tell him I am not dead — I have only 
gone home to Heaven — he will soon come to join 
my society — tell him anTictions are good to humble 
the heart — tell him he will have one less tie to at- 
tach him to earth." Of her dear mother she said — 
" last fall when I heard of her ill health, my heart 
was pained lest I should soon hear of her sudden 
death — but now, fears of this nature will be re- 
moved — I shall be welcoming her home to that 
world where sickness is known no more." She 
then named each of her brothers and sisters — of 
several of her brothers, she said, — "tell them to 
seek the religion of Christ noiv, without delay." 
Of others of her family — " not to mourn for her." 
Her distant friends were affectionately remembered. 
At this time, her distress for breath increased sen- 
sibly, and she expressed a desire that those of her ac- 
quaintances, who had previously retired, should be 
admitted — quite a room full had assembled togeth- 
er. As they approached her bed-side, she took them 
each by the hand and entreated them to seek reli- 



120 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

gion. Every eye was flowing with tears — some 
could not speak — others promised her that they 
would never forget her words. While addressing 
her friends, a smile illumined her countenance, and 
it verily seemed that her mental vision had caught 
a ray from the bright refulgence of celestial light 
and blessedness, for glory appeared to be in her soul ! 

Nature was now fast dissolving, but the spirit re- 
tained its energy — after conversing for hours with 
a countenance beaming love on all around, she 
wished for a prayer-meeting. Upon this many pi- 
ous ladies met, and sang, and prayed. This filled 
her with the greatest delight. Night came on, it 
was thought she could not survive until morning 
The night was passed partly in a disturbed sleep, 
and partly in praising God. 

This affecting scene was thus described in a sub 
sequent letter from her bereaved husband : " I sup- 
ported her on my arm, principally, the last twelve 
hours of her life — there was something remarka- 
ble in her case — I imagine few ever witnessed a 
death like hers. During the night she would rest 
easy with her eyes closed. I would think her to be 
asleep — in a few moments she would open her 
eyes, and say she had thought of something more 
to say to me. *'.#■*••■* 

* * One hour before her death, I thought 
she would not speak again — when she looked up 
and said — " do not give yourself unnecessary troub- 
le on account of my funeral." This was the last 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYES. 121 

remark she made of a worldly nature^- she knew 
it was the last opportunity to converse with me on 
earth -— * " the time allotted her to live with me, she 
?*aid, had been short, but if her admonitions and 
death should effect rny salvation, she was willing to 

^j e# 33 ******** 

At day-break, overcome by long continued watch- 
ing, anxiety < and deep emotion^ he left the room — 
in a few moments he was called to her side— she 
looked into his face with a smile and said - — " now 
I suppose I am dying " — she threw her arms about 
his neck and said, — "you will meet me soon in 
heaven*" He bent down to catch the last faint 
breathings of departing life *— ■ "Lord Jesus, receive 
my spirit." " And when she had said this she fell 
asleep." " And I heard a voice from Heaven, say- 
ing unto me -*- write, blessed are the dead who die 
in the Lord, yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest 
from their labours.and their wotks do follow them," 
JRev. 14: 13. 

" So fades a summer cloud away— 

So sinks the gale when storms are oW — 

So gently shuts the eye of day — 
So dies a wave along the shore. 

" Triumphant smiles the victor's brow, 
Fanned by some guardian angel's wing, 

O grave ! where is thy victory now, 
And where, oh ! death — where is thy sting? " 



122 MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 

And that house of mourning told, more fully than 
language can demonstrate, how sincerely she was 
beloved by them all— -it seemed not an individual 
calamity, only, which had come with barbed shaft 
and smote one stricken mourner, leaving him alone 
to weep, but one deep sensation, one general burst 
of grief pervaded all hearts. 

And they bore her to her rest, ashes to ashes, 
dust to dust — the place on a certain occasion selec- 
ted by herself. The recollection is vivid in the 
mind of the bereaved survivor — -they were walk- 
ing on the premises, located for a burial ground, in 
the month of August of the previous year, and 
sought the cooling shade which the heat of a sultry 
day rendered delightfully refreshing. She looked 
upon the fading earth, and spoke of the eternal 
skies, of the " evidence of things not seen," of the 
final consummation, when the confidence of holy 
trust here should be absorbed in the full fruition of 
vision and glory hereafter, and suggested that that 
was the spot she would select to bury a friend it she 
ahould lose one, or where she, herself, would wish 
to lie, if called hence. 

It was on a projecting portion of land, formed by 
the confluence of two crystal streams, overhung by- 
thick branches of the forest oak which border the 
brink of the bank. There they made her grave, 
embowered by the rich luxuriance and beautiful 
verdure of that western valley where blooms the 
simple flower, wild violet and white rose — canopied 



MEMOIR OF MRS. SAWYER. 123 

by the bright blue heavens, amid whispering woods 
where the winding waters, at intervals, reflect dark 
shadows and glitter with gorgeous light. 

i( How mildly on the wand 'ring cloud, 

The sun-set beam is cast, 
'Tis like the Memory left behind, 

When loved ones breathe their last." 



THE END. 



Errata, — The apostrophe?, on the 7th and 71st pages, be- 
fore ere, should have been om'tted. On the 82d page, for re- 
ceived read receive. On the 103th page, 6th line from the top, 
not should be omitted. 



CONTENTS. 



Early Life. A scene in my early days, . , * 6 

Impressions, 11 

Interest in her Young Pupils, 14 

Address to the Robins in the wood-bine, 14 

The Mermaid's Song, 16 

A Paraphrase on James 4: 14, — for my brothers F. 
and A., 17 

Intellectual Character, 19 

Reflections at School, 22 

Night Musings, 24 

Lines, addressed to a friend, 25 

Religious Impressions, ^.... 27 

Extract from a Letter giving an account of her early 
impressions, and the change in her religious views, 27 

Extract from a Letter, relating to this subject, 31 

To the same, 38 

To the same in Hanover, N. H., 35 

To a Brother in New-Orleans, La., 37 

More Advanced Character,.. 39 

Linesjinscribed to the Memory of Miss MaryAnna Hail, 42 
To a Class of Sabbath Scholars in Cambridge, Mass., 43 
Brief Sketch of the Life and Character of John How- 
ard Williams 46 

His death at Indianapolis, Ind , 53 

Extract from a letter, occasioned by his death, 54 

From H. M'C, Esq., to his parents, 54 

To Mrs. S. C. W., occasioned by his death, 64 

Affliction, — Death of a Friend, 69 



11 CONTENTS. 



" We all do fade as a Leaf," 69 

Extracts from her private Memoranda, directed to Mrs. 

D. F. Williams, Milford, Mass., 73 

Death of Miss Elizabeth B.Lillie, of Dorchester, Mass. 76 

Dangerous illness of a Relative, 78 

Death of Miss Mary Louisa W, of Portland, Me., . . 81 

"Stanzas, written in 1839," 83 

Marriage, 84 

Extracts from Letters written from Huntington, 

To her Mother and Sister, 84 

To Mrs. D. F. W., 92 

To the same, 95 

To Mrs. S. W. C, 98 

To the same, 100 

To her Mother and Sister, . . . . » 102 

To a Brother in New-Orleans, 106 

To her Parents, Brothers and Sisters, 110 

Letter from Dr. F. W. S. to Rev. G. W. C, 116 

Death of an Infant Child, 117 

Her Death, 121 

Conclusion, » . . . . 122 



